


Born To a New Dawn -  Book 1

by the_scribbler



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-07 21:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 162,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20316535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_scribbler/pseuds/the_scribbler
Summary: What happens if Minerva McGonagall decides that the Dursleys are not suitable as a homefor Harry? What happens if Harry is loved from the get-go and expresses another part ofhimself?





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Pursuant to the Berne Convention Implementation Act of 1988 and the Digital Millennium Copyright Act of 1998, 17 U.S.C. §§ 512, 1201–1205, this work is copyrighted 2019 with all rights expressly reserved by its author unless explicitly granted. No portion may be reproduced in any fashion, or hosted on any website, without the express written and notarized permission of the author. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own rights to any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of Joanne K Rowling, © 2003, to whom I am deeply indebted. The Harry Potter series is property of Joanne K. Rowling, and Arthur A. Levine Books, Inc., a division of Scholastic Press, Inc., © 2003. I make no money from any of this. WHATEVER CREATIVE MATERIAL IS LEFT IS MINE.
> 
> CONTENT Disclaimer: This story may contain sexually graphic and explicit material and as such, it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now, as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. If you are offended by sexually explicit stories, please read no further. These stories are just that, stories, and do not promote or condone the activities described herein.

  
Born to a new Dawn  
By ‘the_scribbler’  
the_scribbler (at) shadowgard (d*t) com

** _I have reproduced, herein, a small piece of the second half of the first chapter of **_Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone_** . (Pg 10). It was a fuller use of the chapter, previously, but some uptight asshole complained, so I had to truncate it significantly. Anyway, IT IS THE SOLE PROPERTY OF J.K. ROWLING, AND HER PUBLISHER. _ **

  
  
“I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall,” said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.  
Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.  
“Good luck, Harry,” he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.  
A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours’ time by Mrs. Dursley’s scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley. … He couldn’t know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: “To Harry Potter — the boy who lived!”

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Two hours later – Approx. 1 am GMT - November 1, 1981**

“You’re going to do _ what _, Minerva?” 

“I’m going to go back and get him, Poppy. I told Albus I’d meet him at the party, but that has to wait. I’m going to take him somewhere safe, where Albus won’t be able to interfere with his life and where he will be raised in love, by someone who will know what to do about accidental magic and will give him the kind of education he deserves.”

Poppy Pomfrey looked at her friend of more than fifty years and shook her head. What her friend was proposing to do was audacious at best and crazy at worst. More, it went against the explicit (it seemed) instructions of he-who-had-too-many-titles. But… she couldn’t help seeing that what her long-time friend was suggesting really was the right thing to do. 

“You lied to Albus.”

“Straight up. It was all I could do. I had to make him believe that I was onboard with his half-assed scheme, and that I actually believed that what he was doing was right. Codswhollop. He’s nuts if he thinks leaving James and Lily’s powerful magical child with those muggles is a good thing. But, I’ve got to leave now, while _ he’s _ still distracted, Poppy. Cover for me?”

Nodding her head, albeit somewhat reluctantly, Poppy acquiesced. “How long will you need?”

Minerva’s lips made a thin line before she spoke again. “Just give me as much time as you can. _ Aig sealbh tha brath _, it’s better done now than later.”

Poppy looked at her. It was always kind of funny when Minerva got worked up enough so that her Scottish brogue actually descended into her native Scottish Gaelic. 

“Go. Do what you have to. I’ll cover here as best I can.”

Minerva turned and walked the length of the infirmary, her cloak tucked about her. It was going to be warmer where she was going, and, in any case, she didn’t want to stop back by her office to get another layer to put on before she left the castle. Time was of the essence and the sooner she was out past the wards and gone, the better.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Little Winging, Surrey, UK – twenty minutes later.**

Minerva McGonagall hadn’t always been grateful to be a cat-Animagus. In fact, more than a few times, she had experienced the worst possible combination: hairballs and hang-overs. Each time, it had been more than enough to put her off doing the Animagus change for several long months.  
Tonight though, being a cat-Animagus was just what she needed to be. It allowed her to move quickly and quietly in the shadows – behind, underneath, and around hedgerows; under cars; and along fence-lines. She had no idea whether Albus had already installed guards in the area to watch over Harry, but she was sure that the best thing for James and Lily’s son was for her to get in and get out as quickly and quietly as possible. She knew that its was best for all concerned that Harry simply disappeared – at least until he was ready to deal with the magical world.   
The up-side to being a preternaturally quiet Animagus was that unless she came upon someone who was equally magically talented (and that was god-damned unlikely), she was going to be able to get in and get out with none the wiser.  


However, it took five minutes for her to get to #4 Privet Drive and every moment of that time was with a heart that was beating unreasonably fast. For all of her confidence in the magics she could wield, she knew that if she was caught out in her Animagus form, she really didn’t have a prayer. 

When she got to the end of the driveway, there was nothing for it but to revert back to the witch she was, scoop up the basket, and Apparate away, just as quickly and quietly as she could. It took more than 30 seconds for her to make the change, grab Harry, and disappear. Her heart hade never beat so hard before and she was sure that there wasn’t enough Laphroaig 10-Year-Old Islay, special reserve single malt Scotch Whisky in all the world to calm her nerves. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**In the woods, just off Rocky Lane, Livingston, NY – approx. 10:30 pm, October 31, 1981**   
  


Upstate New York was cold. It was in the mid 30’s (2 C) and there was a light wind off the river. It was also really overcast and there weren’t any stars visible, which made walking in the woods tougher than it needed to be. The situation was compounded by the fact that Minnie hadn’t been to the house in a very long time. It belonged to her father Robert’s youngest sister’s grand-daughter, Isabelle – the youngest and last of the House of Ross. 

What most people didn’t know was that Minerva could see in the dark almost as well as her Animagus form. It was a peculiarity of her transformation that the eyes stayed with her when she was human. It was a magical gift of sorts and one that she went out of her way to hide. 

At the V of the road, she went right and walked for another 100 yards or so before she stopped. Smiling to herself, Minerva took out her wand and summoned her Patronus. The beautiful, luminescent Scottish wildcat always made her smile. It reminded her of a Kneazle, but it didn’t have the huge, pointed ears that a Kneazle usually did and it had ghostly gray tiger-stripes instead of being rusty-orange as Kneazles often were. Taping her wands’ tip to her forehead, she drew forth a thought and gave it to her Patronus. It turned and bounded off into the darkness. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Isabelle Ross was just sitting down to read in front of the massive, crackling fireplace that dominated her family-room. It had gone unused for several months, but the real chill of Fall had returned to this part of the Hudson valley and so she had tossed on some logs and sat back to enjoy it and the pot of tea that would take her the balance of the evening to drink. She was just opening her book –**_ "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Volume III, 3 By Newt Scamander, 3rd. Edition, Obscurus Books, LLC."_** when Minerva’s Patronus bounded through her front door and into her living room. 

“Ack! What in the bloody hell?!” Isabelle swore as the book spilled out of her lap and hit the floor with a crack. 

It wasn’t often that a Patronus just suddenly showed up in your living room. Especially when you’d been doing everything you could to keep your head down, avoid any purposeful interaction with the magical world, and remain completely unknown and unnoticed. It wasn’t easy, since magical signatures are hard to suppress and hard to hide, if the person who’s hunting you knows for whom he or she is looking. 

The ghostly, disembodied voice poured out of the Patronus: “** _Isabelle – it’s Minerva McGonagall, your great grand-aunt. I need your help and I need it right now. Can you come outside and guide me to your home? I don’t have much time.”_ **

It was not the message that she expected. It was also not one that she welcomed… but Minerva was family, after a fashion, and she couldn’t very well refuse her without hearing her out. Her mind made up, at least for the moment, Isabelle looked around for her wand. It wasn’t something of which she kept very close track, since she made every effort to live without magic. Being hunted by parts of the magical community had a suppressing effect on one’s desire to practice magic, unless one had powerful protectors or, in the alternative, enough magic to be able to fend off said hunters. She had neither. If Minerva was coming to her, things had to be pretty desperate across the pond. 

Casting her own Patronus (a Raven), which was something she hadn’t done in years, Isabelle flung it out into the night and then went and gathered her coat and hat, so that she could go out into the night and greet her great-grand aunt.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Once they were back in the house, several minutes later, Isabelle went to the stove to heat up the tea that she had been forced to abandon. She also eyed the basket that Minerva lugged in. She didn’t like the shape of it, because it looked very suspiciously like a baby-carrier and there was something niggling in the back of her mind that wasn’t at all a pleasant thought. 

“So, what brings you all the way from Scotland at this time of night?” Isabelle asked peremptorily. 

Minerva knew that there just wasn’t anything for it but to tell the truth and see where the cards landed. Pulling back the blanket that covered the carrier, Minerva pointed down and said, “Him.”

Isabelle’s stomach curled up in a ball and then did several more contractions, each of which made her feel that much sicker. 

Eyeing the beautiful still-sleeping child, Isabelle said, “Who is he? And why in God’s green hell did you bring him here?”

“His name is Harry James Potter. He is the only son of James Charlus and Lily Marie Potter and he somehow destroyed the Dark Lord tonight. No, we don’t know how, but he did. His parents were not so lucky. James and Lily are both dead. I had to get him away from Albus Dumbledore’s control and into the hands of someone who could hide him, and love him, until he’s ready – really ready – for the magical world.”

Isabelle sat down hard. She hadn’t been expecting any of this. When she found her voice again, she said, “Why me?”

Minerva actually snorted. “Because no one around me – that is, at Hogwarts, or anywhere in England, knows anything about you. You’re not anywhere in the Ministry’s records and you’re nowhere in the school’s records. No one who didn’t know your grandmother would have cause to know anything about you. I intend to have any memory of you hidden away, using the _ Obscurrare _ charm. That will protect you. I also will cast a _ Fidelius _ charm on you, him, and the house tonight before I leave. You’ll be the secret-keeper. So long as you keep the secret, the world will forget about Harry. He’ll become a myth, if he’s remembered at all. I’ll also make the house unplottable.”

Isabelle thought about it. What she was being offered has some benefit to it. The Fidelius Charm would allow her to practice magic again, since the house would be magically hidden. Harry would be company, even if raising him would be a lot of work for several years. She’d have someone to pass her skills to and maybe even pass her name to. That would require some thinking. 

“If I agree to this, can I adopt him as my own blood?” She asked, even before the idea of it was fully formed in her mind. 

Minerva smiled. “I don’t see why not. He’d be yours to raise and love. It would protect him a great deal more than I or anyone else could on my side of the pond.”

“I’ll…. I’ll do it. Only, promise me that you’ll not come and try to find him before he’s ready?”

Minerva nodded, slowly. “Send him to me when he’s ready. I’m not getting any younger, but when he’s old enough, I’ll find the right people to protect and teach him.”

“OK. Let’s do this.” Isabelle said softly. 

And so they did. Minerva was told the secret, and then went out into the night…. never to be seen again in the woods surrounding “The House in the woods, just off Rocky Lane”. 

The Dursleys would live out their lives, unregarded and untroubled, and would never know how close they had been to being caught up in something wholly _ unnatural _ . 

****

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

**Nine and a half years later…**   
**July 8. 1991, 12 Forest Lane, Colgate, UK**   


“Mother?” Hermione Granger called down from the second floor of their home.

“What, love? Miranda replied, matching her daughter’s volume, so that she could be heard in the big house.

“Are you and father going out tonight?”

“Yes, love. We’re going over to the Country Club in an hour or so to meet your father’s friends, the Dunbars.” 

Hermione knew that the country-club in question was the Cottesmore Hotel, Golf, and Country Club that was, really, only a mile or so away by foot, if you didn’t mind hacking through the woods and barely a 3 min. drive away. The Dunbars were Evan and Elise Dunbar, parents of Fay Dunbar, one of her earliest childhood friends. Fay was a nerd, very much like Hermione, and one of the nicest, but silliest girls she had ever met. 

Of course, she had no idea that Fay was witch, just like her, and that she’d be seeing her again in less than two months, in a much different set of circumstances. But, Hermione had her wand and was already reading and learning about what it meant to be a witch. She had already done several small magics – personal grooming mostly. She had lightened her hair color slightly, painted her finger-nails, and done her hair into a platted braid. She’d even learned how to silently summon things to her from across the room. Every one of her successes brought closer to the point where she thought she needed to be before Sept.1st came. Of course, her mother had been thrilled to watch her daughter do these things and had admitted to being more than a little bit jealous. 

When Hermione picked up her whole room using magic and then magically de-dusted it, Miranda practically swooned. 

Bouncing down the stairs and along the hallway that led from the huge attic bedroom where Hermione slept, down to the second floor, where her parents’ master-bedroom was, Hermione couldn’t help but grin. Her parents going out meant that she got to have any take-out food she wanted PLUS at least two or three uninterrupted hours of reading time! It was as close to heaven as she could imagine. Not that she didn’t love her parents – she did. Hermione had seen most of Europe because of them and had many thousands of hours of loving memories with them as they explored new places, new LIBRARIES, museums, restaurants, and wild-lands. Yes, she was lonely when they were away at work, but it had balanced out and she wouldn’t have ever had it any other way. 

Bounding into her parents’ room, with only a pre-emptory knock to acknowledge their privacy, Hermione sought out her mother. 

Miranda, who very much looked like a just-slightly-older version of Hermione, was just trying on a dress. Hermione sighed. She thought her mother was so very beautiful and was envious of her height (5’8”), her tight, slim body; modest but incredibly sexy breasts, and gorgeous bum. For all of her not quite 31 years, Miranda Granger was indeed incredibly beautiful. She turned heads wherever she went. She was a runner… well, an exercise enthusiast generally, and careful in her diet, but, she was happy to say, neither a Vegan nor a vegetarian. 

As she turned sideways, Hermione eeep’d. “Mother? What are those _ things _ on your breasts?”

Miranda saw her only daughter standing there and groaned. “_ Shit” _ she thought to herself. “ _ Didn’t need this conversation today.” _

Grazing her hands down over her nipples, Miranda smiled and tried to diffuse the situation. “They’re called nipple-clamps, love, and I wear them sometimes for… entertainment.”

Hermione, despite all that she had read, didn’t understand what her mother was getting at. Out of an abundance of innocence, she asked, “Can I get a set too?”

Miranda covered her face with her hands for a moment and tried to calm herself. “_ If I had only closed the fucking door” _ she thought. But no, she hadn’t, and now she was going to have to put off her daughter’s curiosity until she had more time. 

Blushing, and not entirely sure whether it was going to work or not, Miranda lowered her hands and turned to face her daughter. “No love”, she said gently. “They’re for adults. I got them because your father likes them and because we love each other.”

Hermione wasn’t completely mollified, but she knew better than to pry into “parent games”. 

“I have a book you can read that will answer _ some _ of the questions I’m sure you have.”

She turned and walked towards the office that she maintained that was attached to their master-bedroom. As she did so, Miranda realized that Hermione might also be seeing the butt-plug she was wearing. All she could do was distract her daughter and keep her from looking down. It wasn’t to be though.

“Mother? Why are you walking funny?”

“_ Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck and double-fuck!” _ Miranda swore to herself. 

Well, she had never lied to her daughter and she wasn’t going to start now, however much it seemed like a great idea. The problem was, she had no idea how she was going to explain things!

“I…” She hesitated. “I… have… oh damn it! If you weren’t so observant, we wouldn’t be having this conversation for another two years!”

_ That _ got Hermione’s attention. She was no fool. She knew, at least intellectually, to what her mother was referring. 

“You’re stalling, mother” Hermione reminded her sweetly, but with a mischievous laugh. There was nothing more entertaining in Hermione’s world than making her mother blush with embarrassment. 

“Damn you, child of mine.” Miranda said, with a complete lack of malice. 

“Do unto others as they would do unto you... only do it first!” Hermione giggled.

Miranda’s eyes bore in on her daughter and said, with a smile playing at the edges of her mouth, “The payback shall be fierce”.

That got Hermione laughing even harder. “You remember, _ Mother _, that Fay’s my best friend and all I have to do is whisper in her ear... and she will then whisper in her mother’s ear… and you’ll get to explain to Elise all of your naughtiness.”

Miranda knew she had been cornered and that there was no way out for her. She would have to bide her time and wait for the right opportunity to pay back her evil daughter. All she could do now was bite the bullet and come clean as to why “she was walking funny”.

And so she did. It was maybe not quite as mortifying as she thought it was going to be. Certainly not as bad as having to explain the Ben-Wa balls that were rolling around in her fanny, careening into each other and making her very, very aroused. When Hermione learned of those, she became very quiet for a moment and Miranda thought she could see the gears turning in her daughter’s head. Miranda ‘put her foot down’ and told her precocious daughter that _ no _ , she wasn’t going to get her own set until she was _ at least _ 13 and needed the relief that would ‘cum’ with having them. And she _ would _ need them. Miranda remembered when she had been 13 and was frantically masturbating all the time (it seemed). Not like anything had really changed though. She still couldn’t go out of the house without a butt-plug or a panty-worn vibrator or both to satisfy her urges. Not that her husband minded!

“So, my beloved daughter. Not a word? To anyone?”

Hermione grinned the grin of someone victorious. “Not a word, I promise.”

“Good. Ok. Class dismissed.”

“Yes, mother” Hermione said, as she playfully skipped her way out of their bedroom. 

Miranda watched her retreating form and shook her head. She had no idea how she was going to explain what had just happened to her husband, Jake. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Same day, GMT -5 hrs. Grand woods, south of Livingston Road, Elizaville, NY 12523**

Harley Janel Ross loved flying. Young, petite, and incredibly strong, she was a natural flyer on a broom. She had zero fear – something that her adoptive mother Isabelle just couldn’t understand. 

At the moment, Harley was racing through (well, technically, _ above _) the woods, disillusioned, on a Nimbus 1700. It was the best broom currently available and it was perfect for Harley’s skills. Right ahead of her, she thought, were her friends and playmates, the twins, Jacqueline and Janice Brice. They were hiding, so as to catch her as she went by, and ‘blob’ her with a ball of color shot from their wands. It was a game they often played, and it built up all sorts of skills, but one that often left them smeared with a riot of colors. Today, however, Harley was a step ahead of them. She was skimming along at tree-top, watching for signs of movement. Her plan was to swoop down and blob whichever of the twins who showed first. 

Against the sky, Harley was practically invisible. She was also dead-silent, since she was wearing precious little in the way of clothes that could flap in the wind and by their motion, give away her position. The only problem was, Jacqueline and Janice weren’t stupid, and they knew that Harley was around, somewhere, ready to pounce. The question was whether she was hugging the ground somewhere, using the shadows for cover or was she above. It was unnerving, since they both knew that one-on-one against Harley, neither of them stood a chance. She was just too good. Even together, it was 6-5 and pick’em as to whether they’d win this round or not. They hated losing. The cost was an ice-cream at the Valley Harvest Ice Cream and Grille and Harley always had a monstrous ice-cream appetite. 

Hiding as they were in the shadow of a huge oak tree, they had a pretty good view of the area around them, including a fairly large clearing just north of where they were. They thought they were safe. 

“_ Where is she?” _ Jacqueline whispered to her sister, as quietly as she could. 

“_ She’s close. Probably really close. Too far for a clean shot, but… “ _

“_ Should we make a run for it? Or try to circle back and flush her out somehow?” _

They never got a chance to make the choice, as a tree about 30 feet into the woods behind them chose that moment to start falling over, quite of its own volition. They bolted; not knowing if Harley was on the other side of the tree or not. 

It was a bad choice. About 30 ft. up, Harley could see branches being knocked aside in haste, almost right under her. Grinning like a loon, she dropped down so that she’d have a clear shot. The moment they broke tree-cover… bam! Red and yellow everywhere. 

Caught dead-to-rights, the twins swore loudly. “God damn you, Harley! How did you find us?”

Harley laughed and then dropped her disillusionment. Sitting as happy as you please on her broom, she looked at them. “I smelled your perfume a while back, Janice and then heard you two talking. I simply trailed along behind you, waiting until I could get you both.” She wasn’t about to tell them of her strategy for winning or the exceptional luck she had in watching the tree fall over and seeing their movement among the branches. 

“It’s so not fair. You’re so much better at this than we are.”

Harley shook her head. “No, I’m not. I’m simply one person. I can stay hidden and watch or I can pursue. Either way, you’re reacting to me. That’s why I win more often.”

The twins nodded. It was a good point. They weren’t going to mention that having a Nimbus 1700 was an advantage as well. It didn’t pay to appear greedy. 

“Do we have to pay off right now or can it wait?” Janice asked as politely as she could.

Harley again shook her head. “Meh. Don’t worry about it right now. Maybe Saturday? After we go to the movie?” They were planning on seeing either Terminator II or Hot Shots!

“Ready to go?” Harley asked. “I’ll race you two to your house, after I disillusion”

“You’re on” Jacqueline said. She took out her wand and waited for Harley to re-establish her disillusion before she did three flaming figures in the air. It changed from three to two to one… and they were off. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Harley arrived home a half-hour later. She was tanned, sweaty, and beautiful. At lease, Isabelle thought so. Harley was the daughter she had always wanted, and it amazed her that a bit of family magic that she had never expected had made it possible. She was going to be tall, too. She was already 4’8” and 75 lbs. That made it likely that she was going to break 5’10” – pretty tall for a girl! Isabelle was close – 5’9” – but she was the tallest Ross girl in several generations. 

What made Harley striking was her red-black hair. Some called it “auburn”, but it wasn’t even close to what everyone else meant by that term. No, it was almost unnaturally black, but every other lock of hair was red – or shimmered red. Isabella had honestly never seen anything like it. In the light, her hair was the deepest red and in the dark, it was matte black. Against her verdant green eyes, her hair was striking. There was no doubt in Isabelle’s mind that if Harley wanted to be a model when she was a little older, she could be. The only thing that marred Harley’s beauty was the lightning-bolt shaped scar on her forehead. It was a decidedly odd scar too, because it had never faded and seemed resistant to any treatment. Isabelle had wondered, over the years, if it was a curse-scar, given Harley’s history. 

“Don’t forget to do your change, love, a couple of times.” Isabelle said to her, as Harley brushed by her and then bounded up the stairs to her bedroom. 

Harley wasn’t stupid enough to whine, “Do I have to?”. Isabelle had explained to her, multiple times, as carefully as she could, that Harley couldn’t lose touch with who she once had been. Even though it was unlikely, she didn’t know when being able to change back into that body might come in handy. She had also done her level best to remind her of how much she loved having a daughter and how much Harley’s love meant to her, too.

When she got to her bedroom, which was “nicely girly” without being a temple to the color pink, Harley closed the door and stripped off.

She wasn’t embarrassed about doing so. The reverse in fact. She liked her body – more, she knew what was going to happen in the next two to three years and was looking forward to it. She thought her adopted mother was beautiful and wanted to feel beautiful like that too.

Looking in the mirror, she watched the face she had grown used to disappear, to be replaced by that of a wild, black-haired boy with the same green eyes. Harley studied the image in the mirror for a moment. Same flat chest… but more prominent collar-bones and a much more prominent Adam’s apple. As a boy, she was stronger – with bigger shoulders, hands, and fore-arms. It was weird to see herself this way. “Harry” wasn’t that attractive, she thought. Thin lips, a reasonably oval face, and not-too-prominent ears completed his face. Not unattractive… but he had nothing on Harley. She was _ pretty! _

Shifting back to the body she knew best, she studied herself in the mirror and felt a calm wash over her. This was the face she was going to show the world. She had no desire to be ‘him’. She was very clear on that. But, she knew that her mother was smart, and she trusted that if she said it was important to be able to shift back and forth, she’d do it. Whether she liked it or not. Isabelle loved her and that meant everything.

Harley did the shift two more times – even though she really didn’t need to. She could do it so fast that it was almost a blur. The one thing she couldn’t change was her scar. It annoyed her. Fortunately, she could use a little bit of base makeup and concealer and no one was the wiser. 

Bouncing down the stairs after she had showered and dressed, Harley walked into the kitchen, since she really hadn’t eaten much at all. Isabelle saw her eyeing the fruit basket on the countertop and the jar of trail-mix that sat right next to it. “Help yourself, love. Dinner won’t be for another two hours.”

“Love you, Mom.” Harley said, before grabbing a banana, a tangerine, and snacking-bowl of the trail-mix. 

Isabelle watched her grab the food and bounce out of the kitchen, on her way to the reading-nook in their small family room that she loved so much. “Love you too, Harley” Isabelle said quietly. She had a bad feeling about what was coming and though she didn’t know the exact timing, she knew that Harley would soon be leaving her side, for the first time in her life, and the thought of it made her sadder than she could possibly express.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Gringotts: Office of the Director, Diagon Alley, London, UK; Tuesday, July 9, 1991**

Ragnok, Director of Operations in Europe, was not the one you bothered with the day-to-day details of account holders. As a rule, he detested the stick-wavers and was happy to take them for every Knut and sickle possible by contract. 

There were, however, exceptions. The Lady-designate for the House of Ross was one such. As she had never before asked for information and help, someone more senior than the Teller of the Day got to handle the request. 

That was why her letter was on Ragnok’s desk. He found the House of Ross an enormous curiosity. For one thing, it was the only strictly matrilineal House among the original 28 houses of the Wizengamot. Additionally (and more importantly, in most ways) it was one of the three wealthiest, because of its uninterrupted ownership of most all of the lands bordering the Forbidden Forest, excepting Hogwarts itself and its surrounding lands. Between the House of Ross and the House of Gryffindor, all of the lands from Gaeve to Lochcarnnon and then west to Applecross, and from Gaeve, north by northwest to Ledmore and everything west of there to the Minch Sea. It was a fairly massive piece of property; even broken up as it was by in-holdings by muggles. The House of Ross owned the grazing, mineral, and water-rights, as well as fishing rights, out to 12 miles, consistent with the muggle government’s restrictions. Beyond that, it also had the right to make any contiguous properties larger than 1 sq. mile, (2.59 sq. kilometers) off-limits to muggles, with the right to ward them in such ways to make them magical districts. All of the lands around the Forbidden forest, for several kilometers, were warded that way and inaccessible by muggles. 

**July 6, 1991**

**Ragnok, Son of Marlore**

**Director, Gringotts UK**

**Diagon Alley, London, UK**

**** **Dear Director Ragnok:**

** Greetings from the House of Ross. We hope that this letter finds you prospering as never before and that your enemies are trembling at your feet. We are grateful for your continued friendship. ** **If it is possible, I would beg your understanding that I cannot present myself to you personally right now. There are those who wish the House of Ross harm and I cannot be caught out. ** **The reason for my letter is this: I have adopted a daughter, in blood and magic, and made her the heiress of the House of Ross. The child whom I have adopted was known to you. I tell you this secret now. The son of the House of Potter, Harry James Potter, lives. He is, however, no longer the son that everyone knew. Harry was born a Metamorph and when he was two years old, he became a girl. Of his own choice. I have adopted her: Harley Janel Ross. Harley is completely capable of making the transition back into the boy that everyone thought was lost, but she does so reluctantly. She is and wants to remain, a girl.**

**I need your help. Harley is due to enter Hogwarts this fall, and I can’t protect her at this distance and I dare not leave the protective magic of my home. Harley is unknown by the magical world, because of the efforts of our few allies. She won’t be able to stay that way for long. If the sorting hat doesn’t give her away, there are others who will try to pierce her identity. There is a certain white beard, with an overly intrusive nose, whom I have cause to distrust. There have been attempted intrusions into the vaults of the House of Potter as well as my own house that I never authorized, for me or for my adopted. If our friendship has ever given you cause to be willing to help us in a time of need, this is that time. **

_ Fortius Quo Fidelius, _

**Isabelle Marie Ross**

**Regent, House of Ross**

Ragnok sat back and thought about what he had just read and thought about the fact that he had been entrusted with a secret of momentous importance and significance. It was an act of trust, for sure, but more than that, an act of courage born out of some desperation. He wondered what he should do with the information, given the problems that Isabelle had pointed out in her letter. 

The first thing to do was have an audit done of the potentially affected accounts. He hit a button on his desk. “Ear-Chewer! Snot-nose. Get in here!”

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**House In the woods, just off Rocky Lane, Livingston, NY – Wednesday, July 10, 1991**

Isabelle Ross was putzing around in the kitchen. It was closing in on dinner-time and she was distracted. Nothing was ready yet and she couldn’t organize her thoughts enough to change that. There was something much more important that needed to be talked about with her only daughter. 

“Harley!” Isabelle called out, as she heard the front door open. 

“Yes, mom?” 

“Can we talk for a moment?” Isabelle said, as she poked her head out of the kitchen. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but somehow, it was going to have to do.

Harley looked at her for a moment, before shrugging her shoulders and wandering into the kitchen. There were two high-backed bar-stools tucked under the long island counter. She pulled one out and hopped up onto it. 

Isabelle eyed her for a moment. “You know, this is the 4th day in row that you’ve worn a swim-suit out to play. Your friends are going to think we have a swimming pool or something.”

Harley laughed. She didn’t dare tell her mother that she and her friends used their brooms as diving platforms out in the middle of Lake Taghkanic, where the Muggles couldn’t see them. “We swim in the river, mom. It’s alright. Besides, a bathing suit is more comfortable to wear than those shorts that you bought for me.”

Isabelle resisted the urge to remonstrate with her daughter, since she didn’t want to have Harley go… and she stopped the thought right there. What she was going to have to do hurt too much, in too many ways, and there was no need to make it worse. 

“Love? You know that September is coming?”

Harley nodded; suddenly quiet. She didn’t like the feeling that had just developed in her stomach. 

“It’s time, love. I can’t teach you everything you need to know as a witch and I can’t have a floo connection for you from here… “

She let the thought hang for a moment. Harley looked at her, her eyes bright but wet with tears that threatened to spill down her face. “I don’t want to leave you!” she cried… and now the tears fell in earnest. Isabelle took her daughter in her arms and hugged her tight. 

“I know. I love you too.”

Separating for a moment, Harley looked up at her mother, as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Can you come with me?” 

“Oh, I wish I could, love. I’d have nowhere to hide. You can’t protect our family’s secrets yet and our grimoire can’t be allowed to fall into anyone else’s hands. That’s why you’ve got to go to school. To learn everything you can.”

“But I’ve already learned so much!”

“I know, love, and I’m extraordinarily proud of you for what you’ve accomplished. You’re way, way ahead of your peers… but there’s so much more. If you’re able to claim the Potter Grimoire, you’ll have all of that to use as well. I have no idea what their family magic was like, but they were one of the three original families of the sacred 28.”

“Where are you sending me?”

“Hogwarts. It’s in Scotland. Your tuition is all paid and I have friends there… friends who will teach you and protect you.”

Isabelle saw her daughter’s lower lip trembling and it was all she could do not to start bawling her eyes out. “Come here”

“I love you more than I can say, Harley. You took my empty life and filled it with love. I’d never have imagined that I’d be so lucky as to have a daughter like you.”

“Will you let me come home when school’s out?”

“LET YOU COME HOME? Oh god, Harley… YES! What part of I love you wasn’t clear? I love being your mother. I love having you home. How could I not want that?”

In a tiny voice, Harley said, “Just wanted to make sure you still wanted me…” and then wiped away her tears. 

The sadness seemed, in a way, cathartic. Reaching out, Isabelle brushed a lock of hair away from her daughter’s face. “There’ll never be a day when I don’t want you home. I want to be able to show you some of the magic that I know and see all the magic that you’re going to get to learn.”

“Promise?”

“Promise!”

“Good. Now, let me tell you about the school. I never went there, but my grandmother did and I have her journal.”

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**8:15 am, Office of the Deputy Headmistress, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; Friday, July 12, 1991**

The morning air-assault of owls had just begun, and Minerva McGonagall sat back to watch. She was always amazed at the relative precision with which the owls flew into her office, circled once, and then swooped low to drop their letters _ precisely _ in the middle of her desk. 

It took 23 minutes for all of the birds to finish their comings-and-goings. She wondered how the Muggles didn’t notice the incredibly routine flight of so many different kinds of owls back and forth to the castle. Surely someone would have noticed something odd about it! 

Once she was sure that the morning deliveries were finished, she silently closed the upper windows in her office and the stoked the fire. Even in the middle of July, mornings were cold. Especially so since Hogwarts was so far north in Scotland. Just the breezes coming in off the ocean were enough to make the nights quite cool, if not outright cold. 

Combing through the pile of deliveries, Minerva saw that there were a number of acceptance-letters. Those always took priority!

There was a total of seven of them this morning. That was a pretty good haul, all things considered. She tapped the pile and it sorted itself out, alphabetically. _ Hmm. Abbott, Bones, Dunbar… oh. That’s interesting. Finnegan, Hopkins, Ross, Weasley. Ross? OMG.” _ Minerva’s jaw dropped as magic tore away a screen that had so long protected a secret in her mind. She grabbed it first and tore open the envelope, more roughly than she had intended.

** _July 10, 1991_ **

** _Dearest Minerva,_ **

** _ This is a surprise, or its not. I don’t know how the magic works really, but I need to let you know that the beautiful child who came into my life 10 years ago because of you is ready to come back into the world. I can’t say more here, for fear of this letter being mis-directed. Rest assured that you’ll know more on Sept. 1._ **

** _Love always,_ **

** _Isabelle Ross,_ **

** _Regent, House of Ross_ **

** _PS – please forward the appropriate shopping list. I’ve not done this before._ **

Minerva sat back hard in her chair. She could feel the magic peeling away from her mind and couldn’t believe what she had just read. Joy leapt in her heart. All that she had done to protect a little boy had worked! It was beyond exciting. 

Quickly composing a reply, Minerva called her own, family elf. “Tilly!”

_ Pop! _ “Mistress calls?”

“Hello, sweetie” Minerva said very gently. In truth, Minerva kept Tilly nearby, not because she needed the elf’s help so much as that Tilly was _ family _ . She had been a part of Minerva’s life since Minerva was a little girl. Minerva had, for good or for ill, pledged to protect Tilly with her own life, if need be, when she was just barely old enough to understand a little bit about magical promises. What she didn’t understand at the time was that magic works largely by _ intent _. It’s the unspoken will of the caster that is most important, and not the words used to conjure the magic. Minerva didn’t know, because she couldn’t have at that age, that she was giving Tilly a gift beyond any that a house-elf had yet received. It was a gift of loyalty and of love, but also power. Tilly had grown in power, just as Minerva had, and was a guardian that even the ‘great’ Albus Dumbledore would fear, if he knew the truth about the relationship. 

Tilly, of course, feared _ no one and nothing. _ She knew that she was far and away more powerful than any other elf in Europe and she’d put the hurt to anyone who dared threaten her mistress.

“Tilly? I need this letter to be given to the person who sent this” and she held up Isabelle’s missive, “letter to me. Can you do that? I can’t have anyone knowing about this for the next month.”

“I understand, Mistress. No one will touch that letter except her.”

“Thank you, sweetie. Please take it now. I can’t afford to have Albus know about this or that you were here. You’re too important to me.”

“I’ll be careful, Mistress. Love you too.”

Minerva was floored. It was the first time that Tilly had _ ever _ said such a thing. She fell to her knees, her eyes wet with happy tears, and hugged her friend and companion. “Love you too, Tilly.”

What neither of them knew was that all around the room, other Hogwarts elves were watching the scene from the cover of invisibility; drawn by the sudden, intense emotions from the two. It was like a magnet, and word of it would get back to the Elves Council, before the day was out. Word of it would even reach the elves who served the Malfoys.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Friday, July 12, 1991 – 8:15 local time EST - ** **House In the woods, just off Rocky Lane, Livingston, NY**

Isabelle had just put down the mornings’ copy of _ The New York Ghost _ when there was a quiet _ Pop! _ in the kitchen. Her wand was in her hand, even though she did think about reaching for it. Getting up from the lounge-chair, she very quietly moved to the entryway for the kitchen. Her wand was up, straight and level, and a very destructive piercing hex was ready to fly from the tip of it. 

Everything seemed quiet, but she moved carefully. Her enemies were still out there, somewhere, and she prayed that they hadn’t yet found her. Stepping around the island, she saw a white, square, linen envelope with garishly green ink. On the front were the words:

** _Lady Isabelle Ross_ **

** _The Sunroom_ **

** _House In the woods_ **

** _Livingston, NY_ **

Isabelle didn’t want to know just how Minerva, for the envelope was surely from her, knew where she was so precisely. It was more than a little creepy. _ Imagine sending a letter to someone who was on the toilet. _She thought to herself. The idea of being able to send so exactly wandered way far into what was TMI. 

She picked up the letter and used the blade that she always carried with her to open it. The single piece of high-quality linen paper fell out.

**July 12, 1991**

**Dearest Isabelle:**

** Imagine my shock at reading your missive this morning!! I will look forward to Sept. 1** **st** **. Please let the dear child know to come to me ** ** _immediately_ ** ** upon arrival. Rubeus Hagrid, the keeper of the keys and grounds, will meet all of the students coming off the train in Hogsmeade. They will be conducted by boat, directly to the castle. Please let your charge know to come and find me just as soon as possible – even if I have to be pulled aside for it. **

**I’ve enclosed the shopping list for 1** **st** **-years. I’ve made some additions to it. If someone questions you, don’t answer and for Merlin’s sake, please don’t tell them that I told you to do it. We’ve got to keep heads-down until the moment when we can’t. Pls. remember that 1** **st** **-years are not allowed a broom, unless I give prior permission (I do in this case!). **

**Permissible pets include the following:**

  * ****Owl****
  * **Snake / magical snake**
  * **Toad**
  * **Cat (Kneazle)**
  * **Rat (magical only)**
  * **Woodland Flying Mice**
  * **Demi-coons**

**If our beloved child has a familiar, then the above limits are removed. Please warn me if it’s anything odd. I’ll need to head off certain parties. Also, remember that it’s best if our child has a three or four-section magical trunk that can be secured with multiple blood-wards. That will help keep certain nosey people out. Let me know if you need funds. I’ll arrange credits with the right people.**

**Note that where I’ve modified the standard list, I’ve set off in purple. **

**Love,**

**Minnie**

Isabella smiled. She had always liked Minerva and she could see the fire in her great-aunt’s letter that she had expected. After re-reading the note, she pulled out the second page and read it. It was a fairly basic shopping list, with no real surprises, except for the telescope, which made her smile.

**First-year students will require:**

**Uniform**

  * ****Four**** Sets of Plain Work Robes (Black)****
  * **One Plain Pointed Hat (Black) for day-wear or ****black wool touk. **
  * **Two**** Pairs of Protective Gloves (dragon hide or similar)**
  * **One heavy winter cloak ****FUR LINED ****(Black, silver fastenings) (Buffalo, Musk-ox, or Arctic hare are most responsible choices).**
  * **1 pair heavy winter, knee-high boots**
  * **4 pairs Acromantula-silk black or brown leggings (girls)**
  * **2 pairs lined, wool, winter trousers (boys) – black or brown**
  * **Please note that all student's clothes should carry name-tags at all times.**

**Books**

  * ****_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1_**** by Miranda Goshawk****
  * **_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade_** **_2_**** by Miranda Goshawk**
  * **_A History of Magic_**** by Bathilda Bagshot**
  * **_Magical Theory_**** by Adalbert Waffling**
  * **_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_**** by Emerick Switch**
  * **_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_**** by Psyllidae Spore**
  * **_Magical Drafts and Potions_**** by Arsenius Jigger**
  * **_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_**** by Newt Scamander; vols. 1 - 3**
  * **_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_**** by Quentin Trimble**
  * **_Facing Violence: Preparing for the Unexpected _****by Miller, Rory**
  * **_Standard Guide to Magical Healing – book 1 _****by Sanginus Vane**
  * **_Guide to Standard Potions Interactions_****, by Arsenius Jigger**

**Other Equipment**

  * ****1 Wand****
  * **1 Cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)**
  * **1 set eye protection**
  * **(1) 5****th**** year’s laboratory set-up – get this at Jacob’s – Horizon Alley (trust me)**
  * **2 extra sets of glass or crystal phials ****– ****unbreakable, re-sealable **
  * **1 muggle telescope – Celestron, Orion, or Sky-Watcher ProED 120mm**
  * **1 set of brass scales**
  * **1 multi-compartment school trunk with Blood-lock feature & anti-theft ward;**
  * **1 ever-sharp potions knife**
  * **(1) Athame – should be in the family’s vault. Ask Gringotts ASAP.**
  * **(1) Everlite™ school book-bag or similar – get the anti-theft version.**

Isabelle thought about the timing for Harley. She didn’t want to be in England any longer than she absolutely had to be. It meant she was going to have to carry not just her wand, but the muggle pistol that her friend at MCUSA had recommended years ago. Her enemies would not be expecting it the 1st time and wouldn’t be ready to deal with it – which would help to keep her alive until she could get away. She hated the thought of having to take more lives, but there was nothing for it. She had sworn on her blood and magic to protect Harley and that was what she was going to do. 

****

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	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story continues and a relationship develops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pursuant to the Berne Convention Implementation Act of 1988 and the Digital Millennium Copyright Act of 1998, 17 U.S.C. §§ 512, 120 1–1 205, this work is copyrighted 2007 with all rights expressly reserved by its author unless explicitly granted. No portion may be reproduced in any fashion, or hosted on any website, without the express written and notarized permission of the author. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own rights to any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of Joanne K Rowling, © 2003, to whom I am deeply indebted. The Harry Potter series is property of Joanne K. Rowling, and Arthur A. Levine Books, Inc., a division of Scholastic Press, Inc., © 2003. I make no money from any of this. WHATEVER CREATIVE MATERIAL IS LEFT IS MINE.
> 
> This story may contain sexually graphic and explicit material and as such, it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now, as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. . These stories are just that, stories, and do not promote or condone the activities described herein.

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

From Chapter I

**Isabelle thought about the timing for Harley. She didn’t want to be in England any longer than she absolutely had to be. It meant she was going to have to carry not just her wand, but the muggle pistol that her friend at MCUSA had recommended years ago. Her enemies would not be expecting it the 1** **st** ** time and wouldn’t be ready to deal with it – which would help to keep her alive until she could get away. She hated the thought of having to take more lives, but there was nothing for it. She had sworn on her blood and magic to protect Harley and that was what she was going to do. **

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**August 15, 1991**

**Diagon Alley, near Ollivander’s**

Hermione Jane Granger was almost bouncing with excitement. Everywhere she looked, there was something amazing. There were at least  _ three _ bookstores that promised thousands of hours of reading pleasure! There was a wand shop! It said  _ Maker of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.  _ Hermione took a moment to try to wrap her head around the  _ existence _ of a store that had been doing business since almost FOUR HUNDRED YEARS before the birth of Christ.  _ How was that even possible? _ Hermione wondered. 

Hermione’s mother and father also noticed the sign. 

Almost as a side conversation, Miranda said, “Ever get the feeling that pretty much all of the history that we were taught in school is wrong?”

Jake looked at her and nodded silently. It didn’t take much to confirm at least a part of that supposition as truth. Across the way, “Welsh Dragon Scales” were on sale. 6 oz. for one (1) Galleon. 

“So… Dragons? I wonder what else we were told were fictional creatures that actually exist?”

“There’s a part of me that doesn’t really want to know, since I know I’m probably going to have nightmares over it and another part that is just wildly curious.” Miranda answered, softly.

Hermione, for her part, wasn’t paying any attention to them. She was looking across the alley, which really wasn’t more that about 25 ft. across in most spots, at a girl about her age, but with the most amazing reddish-black hair and eyes. Hermione, at age not quite 12, was uncertain about whether boys or girls were more interesting to her. She had an inkling that maybe it was both, but she didn’t dare say anything to her parents (yet). However, the girl across the way? OMG. Hermione didn’t even wait for her parents. Rather, she raced across the intervening space, to put herself next to the model-beautiful girl. “Hi.”

For a moment, Harley didn’t know what to say. A gorgeous, brown-eyed, curly brown-haired angel had suddenly appeared out of what felt like nowhere. “Hello?”

“I saw you and though… well, I saw you and you’re so beautiful and something made me want to come and meet you? Is that weird? I didn’t mean it to be. My name is Hermione and I…. “

Harley put her hand up; smiling. “First… breathe. Ok? Now… my name is Harley. Now that we have that out of the way, is this your first time here?”

Hermione nodded, but her cheeks were flaring with embarrassment. She couldn’t believe that she had just come right out and said that she thought Harley was beautiful! Even if it was  _ totally _ true. 

“Who are you here with?”

Hermione looked at her, both wildly embarrassed and yet captivated by this poised, devastatingly beautiful girl. “I’m… I’m here with my parents. They’re over there.” Hermione pointed. Harley looked across the alley and saw a truly beautiful woman, with Hermione’s looks. “That’s my mother, Miranda, and my father, Jake.”

Harley nodded. “I’m here with my mother, Isabelle.” She pointed to a beautiful young woman, who seemed so young that Hermione had to stop and wonder for a moment that the woman wasn’t, in fact, Harley’s older sister.

Turning back, Hermione made the mistake of looking into Harley’s eyes. 

“ _ Meep” _ Was all she could say. The shock of seeing the deep-emerald green, almost to the point of iridescent eyes, rocked Hermione’s world. A thrum unlike anything she had ever felt before resonated inside her and for the first time ever, her magic made itself known by shimmering gold, all over her skin, in wispy, but distinctly visible whorls. Harley gasped. She had seen her own magic do that once and it amazed her. She knew, because Isabelle had told her, that only really, really powerful wizards and witches had such displays at that age.

“You ok?” Harley asked, putting her hand in Hermione’s. The moment they touched, it was as if a lightning bolt had caught Harley in the pit of her stomach and then rocketed up and down her spine. It was all that she could do to keep standing up. Leaning forward, she ever-so-gently pressed her forward to Hermione’s. “Did you feel that?”

“Uh-huh”, Hermione said, almost breathlessly. 

By this time, Isabelle was at her daughter’s side. She didn’t try to pry the two girls apart. She knew that doing so would probably be a mistake, in any event. 

After a moment, Harley found the fortitude to step back and then look up at her mom. 

“Remember that  _ thing _ that you told me about, when we were reading  _ that book?”  _ Harley said, putting particular emphasis on the words. Isabelle nodded.

“Yea…. That... only all over. Like touching a live wire.”

By this time, Miranda and Jake were by their daughter’s side. Isabelle looked at them. “Hi. I suppose you’re the parents?

The two nodded. “You’ll want to come with me, so that we can have a private place to talk. I’ve got some things to tell you that you need to know, and it probably shouldn’t wait.”

Jake put his arm out, not in a threatening gesture, but in a wait-would-someone-please-tell-me-what’s-going-on kind of way. 

Isabelle saw it. “I’ll tell you everything, sir, but you really need to follow me. It’s not safe to talk out here.”

Miranda looked at her husband and then at the two girls, who were holding hands now, and then at the young, tall woman, and then nodded to her husband. That was, apparently, enough for him to acquiesce. 

Miranda then nodded to Isabelle, who turned and led the way up the Alley, until they reached Gringotts Bank. She watched as Isabelle approached the guards and nodded her head, deferentially. The guards returned the gesture, slowly, and let the party into the bank.

Inside, Isabelle walked briskly to the end of the hall, where a row of Goblins waited, each to a desk. Isabelle approached one of them and said something, in a language that no one else in the party understood, including Harley. 

A moment or two later, a more elderly Goblin appeared and the noise in the room completely died away. Isabelle fell to one knee and bade her daughter and Hermione to do the same. Not understanding, they did so. Then she said something in a low, guttural voice. The elderly Goblin responded with something that seemed to approximate a laugh. The Goblin made a motion and Isabelle rose from kneeling; bidding Hermione and Harley to do the same. 

The elderly Goblin turned and walked back down the corridor from whence he had come and the party was motioned to follow. Miranda and Jake thought that it was a good sign that so far, no weapons had been produced.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Two lefts and a right brought them to a beautiful, but subdued conference room, with high-backed chairs and an oval conference table. Once everyone was seated, Isabelle began.

“I asked for Director Ragnok to join us today, because it is unusual  _ in the extreme _ for a mage-class witch to be discovered, and twice as unusual for that girl to be the daughter of non-magical people. I wanted the Director here, so that he could officiate at the execution of an inheritance test for your daughter.”

Jake spoke up. “What do you mean,  _ inheritance test _ ?” 

Isabelle replied quietly, Sir, my name is Isabelle Marie Ross, and I am the Regent of the House of Ross. My daughter, Harley Janel Ross, by blood and magic, is the inheritor of my family’s magical legacy. All of it. Going back some two thousand, five hundred plus years. My people have been on this island, as far as we can tell, for more than  _ fourteen  _ thousand years. Your daughter, I am quite certain, is the inheritor of at least one family’s magic. It’s got to be substantial as well, since mage-level witches happen only once every six hundred to a thousand years.”

Director Ragnok looked across the table at Jake and Miranda. “When Isabelle asked for my presence, I took her seriously. She is a wise and able witch, who has served the interest of the Goblin nation in ways we cannot repay. The only thing that she is missing is that there is, in fact, another mage-class wizard in the United Kingdom. He is the Headmaster of Hogwarts.”

Isabelle sucked in a breath. She hadn’t known that Albus Dumbledore was a Mage. That changed things  _ considerably.  _

“My lord?” Isabelle said, daring to interrupt the Director. 

“What is it, daughter?” the Director said. 

“If the Headmaster is a Mage, would it be wise to conceal the results of the test for this young witch, at least for as long as we are able?”

Ragnok thought about that. Dumbledore was known to guard his prerogatives jealously. Some of those came as a result of the fact that he was the only known mage in the Kingdom. If the camera moved off him and focused on someone else, how would he react? His reach was long, and he was suspected in a great many happenings – many of which were not healthy for those who had been involved. He didn’t want to involve, at least directly, the Goblin nation. The dark lord was still out there and while he had few known followers, he was still dangerous. On the other hand, if it meant having a champion of their own, influenced by neither the dark lord or Dumbledore, it might very well be worth doing more than the Nation had done up to this point. 

“Daughter, you may have a point. However, it should not keep us from doing what is right. Let us test the young witch. Let us test your daughter, as well. There is no sense in testing one and ignoring the other. Especially, if it is as you said it was, today.”

Harley blanched and started trembling. Isabelle saw it and said, “My Lord Ragnok, may I speak with you in private for a moment? There is something I must tell you that is most secret.”

Ragnok looked at her. It was an exceedingly unusual request, but he didn’t see the harm in it, either. “Mister and Missus Granger, could you take your daughter into the next room and wait for me there. My own here has a question that requires some privacy for a moment.”

The three Grangers stood and left the room, though Hermione stopped for a moment and looked back at Harley as she walked out and one could see the questions in her eyes. 

When the door was closed, Ragnok turned to Isabelle. “Well, daughter?”

“My Lord, only four people know the secret that I told you when I wrote to you on July 6th. I have brought my daughter, in blood and magic, for an inheritance test.”

“My Lord, I told you that Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily Potter, did not die that night. Minerva McGonagall stole him away from the Muggle family’s front step, even before they knew he was there. Minerva brought him to me. I raised him, as my daughter, since she discovered at age 3, that she could become a girl. I adopted her four years ago as Harley Janel Ross, last of our line, and the Scion of House Rose.”

As she spoke, the magic of the  _ Fidelius _ fell away completely from his mind and more things came flooding back to him; like the uproar after the Potter scion’s disappearance. Everyone believed him dead, but the vault-books for the family refused to close and no amount of magic could convince the magical record otherwise. It was the only thing standing between the Ministry of Magic and the considerable Potter fortune. Now he knew why. 

He wondered, speculatively, whether the Book refused to close on the Potter vaults simply because it didn’t have a brain. Just magic and only magic. Therefore, it couldn’t be taken in by the magic of the  _ Fidelius _ , which worked on  _ sentience _ . The more he pondered it, the more he wondered if there were ways of using that weakness to get around other problems, like unplottability, etc. He made a note to himself on one of his many notepads, to have his research department look into the matter further. It was very possible that his adopted daughter had just, quite unwittingly, given him a new and powerful piece of leverage against the wand-wavers. 

Ragnok, the fifth of that name, looked across the table at the strikingly beautiful young girl. He was trying to see the Potter features in her but couldn’t get past the eyes. They were the most intensely green he had ever seen in a human. Almost unnaturally so. 

“Is it true?” he asked. Harley nodded. Looking around to see if anyone else was in the room, she morphed and sat before the Head of Gringotts-London as Harry James Potter. Just as quickly though, he changed back. 

“You don’t like that form, do you?” Ragnok asked her quietly. 

“No, my Lord, I don’t. It’s not who I am. I am the daughter of Isabelle Marie Ross and that’s all that matters to me. My birth-parents are gone and though I hope that they are proud of me and love me for who I am, I can’t be what I can’t be.”

_ “To thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.” _

Harley looked at him and then smiled. “My mother didn’t tell me that you know of the Bard, my Lord.”

Ragnok looked at Isabelle, shifted into  _ Ge’Rent _ – the language of the Goblins, and said, “You’ve not told her, my daughter, who you are to me?”

“No, my Lord. Not for fear of embarrassment or lack of pride! But simply because it’s just never come up.” She replied, also speaking in her adopted tongue. 

Ragnok gave her a gimlet eye for a moment before he continued, again in  _ Ge’Rent _ “Daughter, I’m disappointed. I would have thought you’d share that with her, so that she would have an understanding about what is happening today.”

Isabelle looked at him and he could see the tears that were beginning to form in her eyes. “My Lord! Forgive me! I didn’t mean to disappoint you!”

Harley had never seen her mother like she was in that moment. She also had no idea that her mother was fluent in the Goblin language. 

“ _ You must tell her the story of how you came to me, Daughter. Only then will she properly appreciate this situation.” _

_ “I will, I promise, My lord. Father.” _

Ragnok closed his eyes for a moment and tried to appreciate, as best he could, how special it was for the head of one of the major Goblin clans to be able to call one of the wand-users, Daughter, and for her to return the affection so truly, in calling him Father. He was sure that Dumbledore, for all of his talk, had never made the kind of personal commitments that he, Ragnok, had made. The situation would bear watching. He would not allow the old white beard to hurt his own.

“ _ You’ve done yourself proud, my daughter. You took on a huge responsibility and you rose to it. Let us now see if your daughter is up to the next challenge.” _

Ragnok touched a stone on his desk and not 10 seconds later, one of his aids entered the room. “ _ Go. Get the Grangers. Bring them here. Get Clit-smasher and Dick-puller and tell them that I need the Ancestry tools.” _

_ “Right away, my Lord!” _

The young Goblin took off with haste. The Grangers were brought back in and they took their seats. Hermione ran to Harley’s side and sat down; taking Harley’s hand in hers. Isabelle noticed that Harley seemed very pleased with this and made to herself that Hermione was probably going to have to be let in on the secret.

Ragnok looked across the table at Hermione. “Are you ready for this, Ms. Granger?”

“I am, Lord Ragnok. I hope that I am worthy of your time.”

“That has yet to be determined, Ms. Granger, but my instincts are seldom wrong.”

Hermione could feel what she was taking for Harley’s magic, pulsing strongly, and her own responding the same way. 

Jake and Miranda, for their part, watched across the table, as her daughter sat holding hands with a girl whom she had only just met and doing so as if she’d be very, very resistant to letting go. They both wondered what that meant, both for the present as well as the future. Both girls had long, curly, beautiful hair. Hermione’s was soft brown (she called it “mouse-brown” when she was feeling poorly about herself) and Harley’s was… amazing. Black, yet vibrantly dark red. It was impossible, yet somehow very, very real. It was also breathtakingly beautiful. 

Their reverie was broken when two more Goblins walked in. One was carrying a bowl that was covered with carved symbols. The other was carrying a very large, dark-brown book that was bound in leather. 

“Very good”, Ragnok said. “Now we can begin.”

Taking out a ceremonial blade, that looked ancient, but wickedly sharp, Ragnok said, “You first, Ms. Granger”

Hermione let go of Harley’s hand, very reluctantly, and then stood and walked over to where the Director stood. “What do I have to do, my Lord?”

“Don’t be afraid, Ms. Granger. This blade is spelled not to cause pain. I need a little bit of your blood, which we will take from the palm of your hand. I will pour that into this bowl and it will read your lineage, as best as it is able.”

“Does it remember everyone whom it has ever tested, my Lord?”

Ragnok stopped and smiled at her. “In fact, yes it does, young miss. I can see that you will go far in school. You’ve a naturally quick mind.”

“Thank you, my lord!” Hermione said, blushing like mad.

A quick motion and there was a strong, but painless gash in her hand. Hermione watched, fascinated, as the blood pooled in her hand. Ragnok turned her hand side-ways and the blood dripped into the bowl. She was very surprised, when that was finished, to discover that her hand was already healed!

A moment later, the leather book flipped open of its own accord and pages when flying by. It stopped on a page that was Titled, “House of Dagworth”

After several long minutes, a quill jumped to the page and started writing, in very neat script,

  
  


** HERMIONE JANE GRANGER. **

** | **

**JACOB HENRY** **GRANGER**** \--- Miranda Jane Richardson**

**| | **

** Henry Jacob Granger - S arah Ann Millhower** **Roberta “Berti” Dagworth – Benjamin Richardson**

**| | | |**

** John Franklin Granger – Emma Ann Duerre John Emmitt Millhower – Jessica Marie Aherne John Hector Dagworth – Jamie Sullivan - Christopher Richardson **

** | | | | | | |**

**Whitier Patrick Granger Farnsworth Joseph Duerre Emmitt James Millhower Robert Tillium Hector Dagworth, Jr. Albert Tozzer Patrick C Richardson**

**Christine Isadora Murphy Tricia Eunice Agan Victoria Denise Banfield Josephine Lily Balfe Virginia Diane Bole Iolanthe Blanchette Elizabeth Farley**

Ragnok looked at the page, fter the quill had finished, and thought about what he was seeing. At first blush, it looked like Hermione Granger was the direct-line descendent of Hector Dagworth, Sr., the founder of the Society of Potioneers. That made him curious enough to hover the quill over the names of her progenitors. When he did that, the situation cleared up.

“Well, Ms. Granger, this was worth doing. It looks like you are the magical inheritor of the House of Dagworth and its magical head. You are not, however, the financial inheritor, since there appears to be several non-magical claimants ahead of you. Yes, there is some money coming to you, but not the bulk of your great-great-great-grandfather, Hector Dagworth, Sr.’s accounts and companies. However, since you’re the last remaining magical family-member, you will, in all likelihood, have a very interesting magical maturation.”

“Lord Ragnok? Sire? May I ask a question?” 

The Bank Director looked at Jake Granger and nodded, since the man’s phrasing had been polite, and his tone of voice had been respectful. 

“This is all very unexpected. Do you have some idea as to what she’s inheriting?”

Ragnok looked at him, without animas, and said, “No, Mr. Granger. We will have to perform an audit of the vault or vaults in question and let your daughter know.”

Jake looked at him and sat back; mollified for the moment. 

Ragnok said to Hermione, “Are you ready to take the ring of the Lady of House Dagworth? Are you prepared to stand forth and defend your house against all enemies?”

“I am, my Lord.”

“Good. We will have the ring brought forth.” He turned and yelled at one of his employees, who in turn went scurrying off to do his bidding.

Turning to Harley, Ragnok said, “Are you ready?”

Harley turned to look at her adoptive mother. The questions, as well as the fear, were plain to see. 

“It’s alright, love. Father understands, and I think that the pretty girl next to you will understand and accept the situation. It’s your call, but I think that it’s worth it.”

Harley nodded. Turning, Harley said, “I just do the same as Hermione did, my Lord?”

Ragnok nodded, so Harley stood and made her way to his side, where she extended her hand, palm upward. Ragnok was, if anything, even more gentle with her than he had been with Hermione and he had taken obvious care with her, so as to not traumatize the young woman. 

For Ragnok’s part, the touch of Harley’s magic was like a great firestorm, or maybe  _ Fiendfire,  _ or like the wards on the most valuable vaults held by Gringotts. No wonder the young Granger didn’t want to let go of her!

When enough blood had pooled in her hand, Harley carefully poured it into the bowl, just as she had seen Hermione do, and then she went and took her seat, taking Hermione’s hand in hers as quickly as she could – which was something that didn’t go unnoticed by anyone in the room.

The only people who didn’t gasp when the page landed on “House of Potter” were the ones already in the know – Ragnok, Isabelle, and Harley and everyone, save for the Goblin guards at the doors, leaned in so that they could read the page. It took Hermione about two minutes of scrutiny before she was satisfied and sat down. 

Isabelle looked at the Grangers and said, “I’ll answer your questions afterwards, since my Lord’s time is very valuable and I will not waste it. Here is what you need to know for right now. My daughter was born Harry James Potter. With magic, that has been changed.  _ He”  _ and Isabelle emphasized that word, “was the ‘boy-who-lived’. You will not read about him in any of your daughter’s textbooks, though. I and a friend performed some special magic to hide him away from the world, so that he’d be forgotten or that it would only be remembered that he had died. I adopted him, no questions asked, and raised him. At age three though, he became my daughter. I’m not going to go into how that is possible, other than to say that magic allows for a great many things that you would otherwise think impossible.”

After Isabelle spoke, Hermione turned to Harley, intertwining their hands, and said very, very quietly, “Explain?”

Harley leaned forward, so that her forehead was touching Hermione’s. She spoke very, very quietly. “What my mother said is true. I was born a boy, Hermione. I was called Harry. I don’t know why I lived and my parents didn’t, but it doesn’t matter now. I was taken away in the middle of the night by someone who wanted me to be raised in love. And I was. Isabelle agreed to raise and adopt me. When I was three years old, I discovered that I could become a girl. We think it’s a family trait or some magic that my mother left me that made it possible. Anyway, it made her really, really happy. I didn’t have a lot of control over it and it took me two years to be a girl all the time, but now, it’s all I know. It’s all I want to be. I never wanted to be  _ him. _ I love my mother and she has taught me more than you can imagine.”

“Oh, Harley!” Hermione’s leaked with tears. “Thank you for telling me. You’re beautiful, you know? And I can feel your magic and… I don’t want to let go of that.”

Harley reveled in their intertwined hands and in the acceptance that Hermione offered her. Then she bit her lip and said, “When we leave here… can I talk to you privately for a moment?”

“Yes!” Hermione said, not daring to put into words what she hoped might happen between them.

Their ‘moment’ didn’t go unnoticed. The Grangers, particularly, were concerned about just how close their daughter was, physically and otherwise, to the beautiful girl next to her. They had never seen their daughter act affectionately with  _ anyone _ who was not family. 

Their thoughts were interrupted when the Great Book started flipping again, by its own accord. This time it landed on the page titled  _ House of Ross.  _ The magical quill jumped up and started writing, furiously. It went on and on, for more than two minutes. At the end, it stopped on one name:  _ Harley Janel Ross, née Harry James Potter.  _

This time, everyone jumped up and gathered around the book, to try to take in what exactly they were being told. The humans in the room were somewhat disturbed when there was a great burst of  _ Ge’Rent  _ being tossed back and forth and they were pushed back from the book, so that both Director Ragnok and another Goblin, whom Isabelle did not recognize, could study the book. 

Isabelle knew better than to insinuate herself into whatever was going on. Even though she had spent four years living and working among the Goblins, she knew better than to assume that she understood them. It was enough that she felt somewhat accepted by them. 

Harley knew by watching her mother that the best part of valor in this case was silence (discretion) and that she should do nothing to bring attention to herself. So… she sat and held Hermione’s hand. The warmth from that was enough to keep her mind occupied.

For Hermione’s part, her mind was a mess. She didn’t dare tell her parents how strongly Harley’s magic was affecting her or about her sudden, more-than-passing desire to undress Harley and hold Harley’s naked body next to hers. She even chastised herself for the thought. She was not even 12 yet! What in Gods’ green earth was going on? Then she felt Harley’s magic pulse and she understood  _ exactly _ what was going on. She remembered the scene in her mother’s bedroom and the ‘toys’ that her mother was enjoying that day. If the books she had read were right, she had a year… maybe 18 months at the outside, before her body was calling the shots and she had no choice but to go along for the ride. 

Hermione had no idea that Harley wasn’t far behind her, physically. She also had no idea that magically, Harley was already struggling with her first magical maturation and that the pulses of magic that Hermione was feeling were only the tip of the iceberg, as far as Harley was concerned. Isabelle knew, sort of, that her daughter was powerful and was dealing with something that resembled the reverse of menopause – where, instead of  _ leaving _ her ‘most potent’ time as a witch, she was just coming into it. What she didn’t know, because she had neither cause nor ability to know, was that it was going to be nothing less than jaw-dropping, because her daughter was fated to be unspeakably powerful. 

All ruminations, recriminations, speculations, and idle chatter stopped when several Goblins came in and deposited scrolls and books on the table in front of the Director. More yelling in  _ Ge’Rent  _ ensued and there was a gnashing of teeth and what appeared to be threats given out and received. Finally, Ragnok stood. And so did everyone else. When the King stands,  _ nobody _ sits. 

“Sit”, he said. “I stood because I do entirely too much sitting.” When everyone else had sat back down, he continued. “Good. Now, Scion Ross. Please stand.” Harley did so, quietly and immediately.

“My Lord.”

“You stand before us, by adoption of blood and magic, as Scion of the House of Ross. Are you prepared to take the mantle of House Ross, and to wear the Ring of Lady of the House of Ross? And are you prepared, as well, to accept the role of Lady of the House of Potter? Seeing that you are last of that line?”

“I am, my Lord.”

“Come here then and give me your hand.”

“More blood?”

“More blood” the toothy Goblin replied, and somewhere a male voice said, “More briefing? And another replied, “more briefing”.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

When everything was said and done, Hermione and Harley walked out of Gringotts-London wearing new rings and were both considerably richer than they had ever expected. Hermione’s 10 million Galleon windfall had caused her father to fall back on his heels – almost to the point of having to call a medic, after he realized that at one troy ounce per Galleon, her inheritance was worth £ 208,840,000. He had no idea that the Ross fortune was worth more than 12x that.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

By the end of the day, the two girls were tired and sick of shopping, which was a first for both of them, since it was something that neither got much of a chance to do during the school year. 

One moment that both knew was going to stay with them was the chance that they had had while in  _ Flourish and Blotts, Inc. _ Isabelle was distracted and not paying attention to either girl; wrapped up as she was in speaking with the Grangers and with Mr. Flourish about mail-order accounts, etc. 

“ _ Come with me right now” _ Hermione had said, grabbing Harley and pulling her towards the second floor of the store, where there promised to be some small bit of privacy. 

Anxious to find out what Hermione was thinking, Harley went willingly. She was happy that they were out of Gringotts. The surprises had come fast and furious and neither wanted any more of that for the moment. 

Once they were on the second floor, Hermione found a back corner, where it was obvious that no one, even the store-clerks, spent much (if any) time. Grabbing Harley, Hermione backed her up to a wall and did the thing that Harley had hoped she would. They were kissing. And not a sweet peck just in passing, but rather a full-on, open-mouthed kiss. 

The feel of Hermione’s lips on hers was more than enough to send Harley crashing over the edge of  _ Le Petit Morte.  _ It was sudden, overwhelming, and just exactly what both girls needed. One kiss was, of course, way not enough, and so they reveled in the contact. 

Holding each other proved to be incredibly satisfying. Their magic was weaving and twinning its way through and between them, even though neither really recognized that that was what was happening. 

Hermione had never stopped to think about what her first kiss would be like, but something in her told her that this was way beyond what she would have thought of as ‘good’ or ‘satisfactory’. 

“Thank you” Harley said shyly. “I wasn’t going to ask, but… you did exactly what I wanted.”

“Thank God. I thought…. That maybe you wanted it as much as I, but I was afraid to ask!”

Harley couldn’t help but giggle a little bit. It relieved the tension of the moment and gave her a chance to look at her all-but-declared girlfriend. “More?”

Hermione bit her lip for a moment and then threw caution to the wind and went for it.

That’s how they were found. Intertwined and enjoying every moment of it.

Isabelle watched as her daughter snogged the life out of her friend. It was both incredibly sweet and alarming to watch. 6 th -graders didn’t usually behave this way!

“ _ Yea, but 6 _ _ th _ _ graders aren’t usually burgeoning Magi, either.”  _ Isabelle thought to herself. She gave them another moment or two before she cleared her throat rather loudly, to announce her presence.

The two girls suddenly sprang apart, and their blushes were  _ epic -  _ which caused Isabelle to burst into laughter. “Oh, if you could only see yourselves!”

“ _ Mommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm” _ Harley whined. 

Isabelle looked at her with a very gimlet eye. “Daughter?”

She really didn’t have to say more, but in for a penny, in for a pound. “Ok. I expected this, but not quite this soon.” Which was enough to make the blushes on the two girls burn ever the brighter. “Have you got it out of your system yet or am I just seeing the beginning of this?”

Harley held up Hermione’s hand and Isabelle could see them intertwined quite tightly. 

“Ok, ok. I see. Now that we have an understanding, are the two of you going to be able to be away from each other until Sept. 1 st or do I need to make arrangements with Hermione’s parents to have her come be with us until then?”

Harley looked into Hermione’s eyes. It shocked Isabelle more than a little bit to see the warmth and affection that she would have sworn, prior to this moment, had been growing between them for months or years. But she knew for a certainty that they had never, ever met before. Was the magic that each felt from the other just so strong that it would make the feel so? 

Hermione hesitated, but her grasp of Harley’s hand didn’t lessen at all. “If it’s all the same to you, I don’t want to leave her.”

Isabelle looked at her daughter. This was entirely new territory. She had never expected to be in the position of seeing her daughter take the first steps into a same-sex relationship. “Do you feel the same?” 

“Yes, please.” She answered her mother quietly. 

“Ok then. I will go downstairs and speak with the Grangers. I expect you two downstairs to join us in five minutes. Understood?”

The two girls looked at Isabelle and nodded, sheepishly. They knew they were being given a few more minutes of ‘private’ time, so that they could finish (for the moment) what they had started.

Once Isabelle had turned the corner and disappeared back down the stairs, Harley pulled Hermione back into her arms and Hermione went languidly; enjoying the warmth and the magic that was flowing between them. 

“Do you understand what’s happening”

“No. Do you?”

“No. It feels right though.”

“Shut up and kiss me then.”

Harley did as commanded. And yes, it did feel right. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

It took a while to work out the details, but eventually, everyone was more or less satisfied with what had been decided. Using the modified shopping list that Harley had received, the party moved through the Alley, buying what was recommended. There were a number of ‘additional’ purchases made, based on their new-found wealth. One of those purchases was boots – dragon skin boots – for Jake and Miranda. Another was for a new set of war-grade wards to be installed at Isabelle’s home. The 60,000 Galleons that were deducted from one of Harley’s new vaults didn’t even take a substantial nick out of the  _ interest _ on said accounts. 

The last two stops took them to  _ Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions _ , where they ran into the one person Isabelle had neither expected nor desired to encounter. But there was nothing that could be done about it, so she decided to have fun with the situation, via her daughter. 

Madame Malkin was a short, squat, happy witch, dressed in mauve, who had cause to remember Isabelle Ross. 

The blonde boy on the stand, who was just having the last of his measurements taken, looked at Isabelle – and didn’t recognize her. He didn’t recognize the coat-of-arms designating her house, either. Isabelle decided to have some fun with him. Calling Hermione forward, Isabelle cleared her throat and said, “Madame Malkin? Has business fallen off so much that you have to put up with the riff-raff?”

Madame Malkin was no dummy. She had been in business for more than 60 years and knew, by heart, every house insignia, coat-of-arms, and color scheme – including all of the lesser Scottish houses and clans. The House of Ross was a very well-known one. It was both Ancient and Noble and the founding house of the original founding 28. 

“Oh! My! Regent Ross! What a welcome surprise!” The young blonde boy; Isabelle was sure that he was the scion of House Malfoy, turned and glared at Isabelle. “Just who are  _ you _ to call me riff-raff?”

Isabelle smiled a predatory smile. “Who am I? Madame Malkin tell this pathetic little whelp who I am, if you would please.”

“It’s my pleasure, Regent Ross. This, young man, is Isabelle Marie Ross, Regent of House Ross. She is the last of the Twenty-Eight. Her family was Ancient and Noble when your father’s grandfather was selling his sister for drinking money.”

Draco was about to go for his wand, with a “ _ How-dare-you” _ on his lips when he realized that not only was he outnumbered, but that he wasn’t in a position to take on fully qualified, full-grown witches. 

Isabelle laughed. She could see the cowardice in Draco’s eyes. “Well, at least you’re smart enough not to bite off more than you can chew, you little snot. I know your father. I knew his father too. Not a single one of you is capable of stopping me, even on your best days.”

Draco was seething in defense of his father and in anger at being laughed at by this woman. The moment that his measurements were finished, he jumped down from the platform and practically ran out the door. 

“Jumped up little snot.” Isabelle said to Madame Malkin.

“They seem to get worse every year, Regent Ross.”

“Oh please, Isabelle. I don’t use the title unless I absolutely have to.”

“Well, very good then. Now, what can I do for you today? You looking for a new wardrobe?”

“Not today, unfortunately. Mostly, I’m here for my daughter. Harley, this is Madame Malkin.”

Harley curtseyed formally – deeply and with flair - as etiquette demanded. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Malkin. I look forward to being dressed by you.”

“Now who is this beautiful young lady?” Madame Malkin said, pointing at Hermione.

“This is the Lady Hermione Dagworth-Granger, of the House of Dagworth and Granger.”

Mary-Louise Malkin blinked. Twice. The House of Dagworth was famous. She had never expected that its heir would walk through her door. “Well, I’ll be pickled. Welcome to my Shoppe, Lady Dagworth!”

“Hermione, if you please, my lady Malkin.” Hermione said, as she too curtseyed with a bright smile. “Like Regent Ross, I’m not a fan of titles.”

“Well, welcome anyway. It’s a thrill to have you here. Are these your parents?” She said, seeing the striking resemblance.

“Yes, Lady Malkin. Let me introduce my mother and father, Doctors Jake and Miranda Granger, DMD.”

“Oh my. Well, this is a rare treat. We don’t usually have non-magicals here visiting. My name is Mary-Louise Malkin. It’s a pleasure.”

Both Jake and Miranda extended their hands and felt her genuine greeting. Miranda couldn’t help but smile. “I love what you have here, Lady Malkin. Am I permitted to buy?”

Mary-Louise shook her head for a moment; surprised. “Why would you not be? I would love to sell to you!”

Miranda smiled. She had already identified several things that would look great in her wardrobe. 

Hermione jumped in, since her mother wasn’t in a position to do so. “Lady Malkin. I’ve just come into a few Galleons. Whatever my mother wants… is hers. I’ll give you my Gringotts medallion to scan, for payment.”

The proprietress smiled and nodded. “Let’s get started then!”

And they were off. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

An hour and a half later, the group dragged itself out of the shop. Everyone was tired, but there was one thing left to do. Hermione’s wand. For that, there was only one place to go: Ollivander’s. 

**“Peeling gold letters over the door read ** ** _Ollivander’s: Makers of Fine Wands since 382b.c._ ** ** A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair.” **

** \- Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone**

Harley looked around. She could feel the magic in the place and knew that if she didn’t already have an amazing, powerful wand that fit her perfectly, she’d most likely find one here. Hermione, for her part, also felt the magic, but differently. For her, it felt almost oppressive. 

A voice from somewhere in the store said, “Ah… welcome.” 

Harley’s and Hermione’s eyes immediately tracked on the voice and saw Mr. Ollivander, stepping out of the shadows. He was old. Just how old though it was hard to tell. There was something about him that suggested that he had been around a very, very long time. Maybe even as much as two hundred years, but it was impossible to tell. 

Harley nodded. “My name is Harley Janel Ross and I am the Lady Ross, of the Ancient and Noble House of Ross. I have brought my friend for a wand.”

Something was niggling at the back of Ollivander’s mind, but he couldn’t pin it down. It was like someone had taken one of his memories. A ghost-copy was somewhere in his mind, but he couldn’t find it. 

Hermione stepped up and looked at Ollivander. Their eyes met for a moment, but she could tell he was distracted and not really paying attention. Finally, Isabelle had had enough. She took out her wand and cast a flash-bang charm at the man. The bright, bright light and the loud noise seemed to draw the man out of his fugue.

A tape-measure came out of nowhere and started measuring Hermione from every angle. It even measured between her nostrils!  _ This guy’s nuts! _ Hermione thought. 

Long, thin boxes flew everywhere; exploding from every shelf. One flew at her and she caught it, as if by reflex. The room seemed to turn inside-out for a moment and there was a powerful wind that blew through the store. Hermione could smell newly-cut wood, grass, and the smell of fresh peppermint. It was amazing and for the first time, Hermione  _ felt _ like a real witch!

Harley reached into her purse and drew out her Gringotts medallion and pressed it to the same symbol that was next to the store’s ancient cash-register. There was a gold light for a moment and then it was gone. Harley assumed that the proper amount of money had been deducted from her account for the wand. 

They all walked out of the store, amazed at Hermione’s wand. It was 10 & 5/8ths Cedar, with a Griffon-feather and blood core, from an ancient and hugely powerful British Griffon that once lived in the great Sherwood Forest. Hermione was particularly excited by the choice, since the pamphlet on wand-woods (written by Ollivander) said:

**“Cedar**

Whenever I meet one who carries a cedar wand, I find strength of character and unusual loyalty. My father, Gervaise Ollivander, used always to say, ‘you will never fool the cedar carrier,’ and I agree: the cedar wand finds its perfect home where there is perspicacity and perception. I would go further than my father, however, in saying that I have never yet met the owner of a cedar wand whom I would care to cross, especially if harm is done to those of whom they are fond. The witch or wizard who is well-matched with cedar carries the potential to be a frightening adversary, which often comes as a shock to those who have thoughtlessly challenged them.”

www.pottermore.com/writing-by-jk-rowling/wand-woods 

As they walked down the Alley, headed towards the exit, Hermione stopped for a moment and asked, “I just realized! You didn’t get a wand? OMG. I’m so sorry. I took up so much time…”

Harley squeezed her hand and said, “Don’t worry about it. And yes, for the record, I already have a wand. It’s Blackthorn, 11 & 1/8”, with a core of the blood and feathers of a Thunderbird, along with my mother’s blood. It was made for me and it’s the only one like it.” Hermione thought about this for a moment and then turned to the pamphlet about wand-woods. She found the page about Blackthorn and read it twice over. 

##  **“Blackthorn**

Blackthorn, which is a very unusual wand wood, has the reputation, in my view well-merited, of being best suited to a warrior. This does not necessarily mean that its owner practices the Dark Arts (although it is undeniable that those who do so will enjoy the blackthorn wand’s prodigious power); one finds blackthorn wands among the Aurors as well as among the denizens of Azkaban. It is a curious feature of the blackthorn bush, which sports wicked thorns, that it produces its sweetest berries after the hardest frosts, and the wands made from this wood appear to need to pass through danger or hardship with their owners to become truly bonded. Given this condition, the blackthorn wand will become as loyal and faithful a servant as one could wish.”

www.pottermore.com/writing-by-jk-rowling/wand-woods

As they got close to the exit from the Alley, the one that led back to the Leaky Caldron, a tall, blond-haired man stepped out and blocked their path. Isabelle knew who it was immediately and she pushed the three Grangers as well as Harley behind her. “What do you want, Lucy?”

Lucius Malfoy immediately bristled at the knick-name and his wand was out almost before he spoke. “You. You insulted me and my son and you will pay for that.”

Isabelle looked at him and laughed. “Somehow, I don’t think so, Lucy. You have no idea of the world of hurt that I can bring down on you. Why don’t you just scamper off like your misbegotten whelp? You’ll save yourself a great deal of trouble.”

“Why you…” As he started to snarl, his wand came up. And then it fell in half.

Isabelle stood in front of him with a long, glowing blue-ish white blade extending from the tip of her wand. The snap and crackle of it made Hermione gasp and her face light up in a crazy smile. She knew  _ exactly _ what Isabelle had somehow created… and she knew that the man in front of her had no chance at all of winning. In fact, she knew that if Isabelle chose, the man could lose an arm, a leg, or his life and there wasn’t a blessed thing that he’d be able to do to stop her.

“Now Lucy. You seemed to have lost half your wand. That’s just a crying shame. Why don’t you run home to your mama and think about what’s just happened here; why you don’t have a hope in hell against me; and what might happen to you if I were really, seriously annoyed at you?”

Isabelle extinguished her sword and tucked her wand away with a small flourish. “Scoot, Lucy. My daughter is right behind me and she’d happily blow a hole in you large enough to crawl through, if I ask her to do so.”

Lucius Malfoy knew when he was beaten. Without a wand, and facing three adults, whose abilities he did not know, he chose the greater part of valor and pushed his way away from them and down the street. 

“That was SO COOL!” Hermione burst out. 

“Why, thank you, Ms. Granger. That’s the first time I’ve had to use it in anger. Seems to work really well and the magical power needed to make it work is fairly low. I should be able to teach it to you before school starts. Would you like that?”

Hermione  _ squee’d _ and jumped up and down in excitement. Being able to have her own light-sword was going to be just the most awesome thing she had ever imagined!

Jake looked at Isabelle and said, “You really figured out how to make a light-sabre? Seriously?”

Isabelle grinned. “You bet. And the damndest thing is… it works just like the movies. I can cut through anything and it takes very little magical power to make it work. Once Hermione learns the  _ Lumos _ charm and a couple of other things, she’ll be good to go. It’s one of the most practical applications of magic that I’ve ever seen. The amazing thing is that no one else has thought about it, as far as I know. It took me about an hour or two, from the moment that I thought about do it until the moment that I made it work.”

Hermione turned to Harley and said, “Do you know how?”

Harley grinned, took out her wand, and pointed it away from her body before saying, “ _ Gladius”.  _ A blue-green blade of light jumped out from the tip of her wand and the snap-hiss was both menacing and reassuring at the same time. 

Hermione’s eyes were bright with what Isabelle really thought looked like pride in her girlfriend.  _ Whew... _ Isabelle thought to herself.  _ That’s going to take some getting used to _ .  _ What happens when they come out as a couple? Two magus-level witches who are rich as Croesus? Who’s going to stop them from running the school as they see fit? _

Isabelle remembered her time in school – 1970 to 1977 – and thought about all the girls she had bedded. The list was long. But not one of those girls was a Magus. She shuddered at the thought of what might have happened to her if she had come across a girl that powerful.  _ Probably ended up being her toy, or concubine. If Harley gets up a head of steam… Oh well. I’ve done the best that I can. I’ve taught her everything I know and I’ve taught her how to learn more. _

Stopping at the portal to the Leaky Caldron, Isabelle turned to the Grangers. “You know how to get home from here?”

They both nodded. “Good. I will take care of Hermione until it’s time for the two of them to start school. That way, they can practice magic and I can teach them about some of the cultural things that they’re going to encounter at Hogwarts. They’ll have their trunks, clothes, potions-materials, books, and everything else that they’ll need. I’ll also make sure that Hermione can write to you regularly. There’s a magical post-office in Hogsmeade that receives in owls and sends out regular mail. I’ll make sure that Hermione is able to set up an account to pay for all of the mail-forwarding. 

The Grangers nodded. Miranda hugged Hermione like her life depended on it and then they said, “Thank you for everything, Isabelle. You’ve opened up a whole new world to us and we really appreciate it. I love the clothes” and Jake interceded, “And boots!”, “That you got for us” Miranda continued. “It’s still hard to believe that Hermione has re-started an entire magical House and has money to act as its founding lady. I’m bursting to tell  _ someone _ , but I know that I can’t.”

Isabelle said, “Please,  _ please _ remember that. The Statute of Secrecy is one of the MOST enforced of our laws and you both would be Obliviated in a heartbeat.”

“We understand. The book-seller was most emphatic about us reading the book of laws that pertain to non-magical parents like us.”

“Good. Alright. This is where we part until Harley and Hermione come to see you at Yule. I’ll not see you two again until sometime this coming Spring. We’ll work that out by elf-post. Take care of yourselves.”

“You too, Isabelle. Thank you for everything.”

“My pleasure, Jake, Miranda. It was a joy to meet both of you.”

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Four Floo-transits later – first to Iceland, then to Cape Breton Island, Canada and then from there to the US border, they were home. When they landed in the house’ small living-room, Isabelle told Hermione the secret, so that she could see the house for the first time. It was close to midnight and, after unshrinking their things, Isabelle sent the two girls off to Harley’s room. There would be time enough to talk in the morning. 

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**Rrethi i Librazhdit** **; near the eastern border of Albania, Friday, August. 23rd; early evening**

Quirinus Quirrell wondered, not for the first time, just what in the hell he was doing in such a run-down, god-awful place such as  Rrethi i Librazhdit . Practically a stone’s throw from the western Macedonian border, there was nothing to recommend the place… except the fact that there had been consistent rumors that a terrible, awful spirit had taken to inhabiting the snakes in the area. Defense against the Dark Arts was Quirinus’ specialty and so, like a moth to a flame, he had decided to make the incredibly arduous trip into the god-forsaken backwaters of this third-rate, not-quite-failed, just-post-Stalinist European country to see if he could find, trap, and transport the spirit back to the Hague, where his brethren in the magical, Pan European confederacy were based. 

Quirinus did not expect that he’d be in a run-down, Albanian bar, trying to choke down food that he was almost sure wasn’t completely edible, and wash it down with potato vodka that was of questionable quality at best. He wished that he had stayed in Buzet instead of coming to the forsaken frontier area near the border. God knew, he could have used the rest… especially since he had just finished the last requirements for his second mastery. 

He was just finishing the last of the semi-edible food on his plate when he was suddenly stunned from behind by a man whom he had failed to hear enter the restaurant. Peter Pettigrew was extremely nervous as he raised his wand and stunned the older wizard, but he needn’t have been. Quirinus never saw it coming because, like a fool, he had sat at what passed for a bar, with his back to the door. _Constant Vigilance_ was a lesson completely lost on him.

Peter, as he floated the man’s body out the back door, flipped a couple of coins to the bar-keep and even managed a very polite thank you to the man in passingly good Albanian. 

For Quirinus, ordering the meal of lamb, beans, brown-bread, and room-temperature vodka was the last time that he’d ever be able to make a rational, conscience choice of his own again.

As the two British-born wizards disappeared into the quickly approaching darkness, the younger, shabbier wizard thought that he might have, for once, done something bordering on good for his master and that he might, if he was lucky, have a chance to go into a real town and enjoy a real meal. It was optimistic in the extreme, but a man had to have hope, didn’t he?

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**Office of the Deputy Headmistress, Hogwarts – Saturday, August 24** **th** **, 1991**

There were days, Minerva McGonagall thought, that it didn’t pay to be an administrator. On the best of days, it was a miserable, thankless job that consumed her days with paperwork, budgets, grade-reviews, curricula reviews, acceptance letters, and letters of appeal for students who had been rejected during the application process, for one reason or another. 

There were bright spots though, and this morning brought one of them. Minerva held it up and looked at it. It was a pale, off-white, linen envelope, done in the proper style for formal missives in the magical world. Even the ink was the proper, lurid green. She was pleased that it was addressed to her, with her whole, given name: Lady Minerva Catherine McGonagall. 

**August 23, 1991**

** _“Dearest Minnie:_ **

** _We’re so close… and I find myself scared, sad, afraid, lonely, and anxious. I know I should feel any of those, really, but seeing my child go off is a reality that is tearing at my heart. I love her so much. You have no idea how grateful I am that I said yes to you. _ **

** _You’re going to find that the situation is somewhat changed (understatement here). There is a young first-gen witch who will be with my child. Her name is Hermione Granger. You met her and did your trick-and-pony-show for her and her parents. Well, that young girl is so much more than you could have imagined. I’m not going to ruin the surprise, but I assure you, you’re in for one of the biggest of your life. I wish I could be there to see the look on your face as you struggle to hold that stern look for which you are so famous. _ **

** _Please send me memories. I will revel in them._ **

** _Love always,_ **

** _Your great grand-niece_ **

Minerva sat back and thought about what she was being told. One thing that was obvious from the note, but would be known to her and her alone, was that the boy who once was Harry Potter was no longer.  _ He _ was now a  _ She. _ That by itself would set the magical world on its ear. That was, if Isabelle decided to release the secret. If she didn’t, then the child who showed up would be known… to the Book (maybe) and to the Hat (maybe)… and that’s it. What would Poppy have to say? Would she be told? If she wasn’t, was there some way that her magical oath could pierce any protective magic that might otherwise hide the child’s ID? Would the Goblins know? And if they did, what did they say about it?

Did Hermione Granger know the truth? If she did, was there any way for Albus to learn it from her? Would the Fidelius protect her mind from intrusion on that point? She had no idea. It was an area of magic with which she just really wasn’t all that familiar. She knew she couldn’t trust Albus, and by extension, couldn’t trust Snape. They were both master Occlumens and Albus was also a Master-Legillimancer. Minerva wore a pendant all the time that protected her mind, as did Pomona, Poppy,  Aurora Sinistra , Charity Burbage, Rolanda Hooch, and  Septima Vector. Rubeus Hagrid didn’t need one because he was protected due to his being a half-giant.  Filius Flitwick was similarly protected because of his Goblin heritage. No one save for Albus, trusted Snape – and that was the principle reason that each took precautions. If it annoyed Albus, he hadn’t let on. Minerva didn’t care one way or the other though and made sure not to spend much time at all in the company of either man.

Minerva thought about all of this, and other things as well. She was responsible for the students coming in by train, which was to say pretty much all of them. A few, a very small few, came up from Hogsmeade itself. They were the sons and daughters of the shopkeepers there and had every right to walk back and forth to school. In fact, doing so was one of the most cherished rights that any student could have: to attend school during the day and then walk home to his/her parents at night, to show them what they were working on and to ask for more help in their studies. 

The first staff-meeting of the year was supposed to be on August 30 th – Friday. The students would arrive on Sunday the 1 st of September and start classes the very next day, which Minerva thought was stupid. It didn’t give anyone time to get used to the layout of the castle or even how to get down to the great hall for food.

The upside, if there was one, was that only one of the professors would be new. A Quirinius Quirrell. Supposedly he was a DADA expert from Europe, with a strong interest in dark creatures. Minerva hadn’t heard of him but she was “assured” that he was competent by the Headmaster (for what that was worth). The fact that they still had a ghost on the staff was testimony enough to the quality of the Headmaster’s judgements.  _ How in God’s green hell are we supposed to run a top-quality school when we have a ghost on the payroll? _ Then it occurred to her. You *can’t* pay a ghost! So where was that money going?

Minerva’s blood started to boil as she thought about the possibilities. If she discovered that the monies intended to pay that salary were going missing into *someone’s* account, she knew there would be hell to pay!

The first thing she had to do was to exorcise a ghost. It should have been done years and years ago, but no one ever got up the gumption to make it happen. Well, now she would. The students deserved better!

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**Staff office – August 30** **th** **, 1991 – 10AM**

“Welcome, welcome all.” Albus Dumbledore, Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot, and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry stood and addressed his colleagues. 

“Good morning, Albus” rang out from several of the teachers present. 

“Now, I see that we are several members short this morning. Minerva? Do you know where our colleagues are?”

“Yes, Albus. I have released, with our thanks, Professor Kettleburn and am hiring a new CoMC teacher in the next couple of days. I have exorcised Cuthbert Binns to the next great adventure, and I have dismissed the Muggle Studies teacher you were going to hire and replaced him. I anticipate that his replacement will be here on Monday.  David Blight is a squib whom I found teaching at Yale University in the States. He’s agreed to take a two-year sabbatical and come and re-organize the way we teach history here and to order a set of up-to-date history texts, both from the magical and muggle side.”

Albus rose, his mouth gapping, before he was able to get out the words, “How dare you?”

“How dare I? Albus, you’re a terrible liar and you’re a worse thief. I was able to find all of the galleons you had thought you had gotten out of the budget for the last fifty years for Binns’ supposed salary. It’s amazing what can happen when you go to the Goblins with proof of theft. You know their motto!”

Minerva had been able to claw back more than 35,000 galleons, when everything was said and done. That was enough to pay all of their salaries for the next three years! It put the school in the black for the first time in 20 years.

There was a general gasp of astonishment and scorn towards the Headmaster. Theft was a serious charge and not one that a person would level lightly, lest one find oneself in a duel to the death. 

Albus turned on her, and she could see anger welling up in him, maybe for the first time ever. Fortunately, she had her wand in her hand already and wouldn’t be caught off-guard. Luckily, he saw her wand and realized that he was at a significant disadvantage and that discretion was, for the moment, the better part of valor. If the money had been found in his vault, as he assumed it had been, then the Goblins had already branded him a thief. He’d be lucky if he could find a troll to handle his gold, much less anyone else. 

Minerva had de-fanged him financially by putting him on the outs with the Goblins; disrupted his power-base at the school by firing several of his supporters and now… doing this. He was between a rock and a hard place. It was infuriating.

“Now, does anyone else have anything that needs to be brought forward? Are there any needs that haven’t been addressed, either in the budget or otherwise?”

Minerva looked around. She had one more card to play. “Severus, we all know that you hate teaching generally, and teaching ‘dunderheads’ more specifically. I’ve taken the liberty of lifting that burden off your shoulders. You’re going to have two teaching assistants this year. They are your two best from last year. I’ve set aside enough money to pay them at the 1/3 salary rate and between the two of them, to take on the first four years of classes. That means you have to focus only on the Fifth through Seventh-year students. What do you say?”

Snape looked at her, astonished. It was Christmas come early. “I.. I don’t know what to say, Minerva.”

She smiled at him. “Yes, and thank-you would do nicely, Severus.”

He considered that. He had never expected to have his most expensive request granted. It certainly seemed like a peace-offering between them. “Well, yes then. And thank you. This is… unexpected.”

“You’re welcome, Severus. We need many more potions-experts that we’ve gotten these last few years. I’m hoping that you can start turning out more candidates for post-NEWT study, now that you have only three class-years upon which to focus.”

“You shall have them then, or I will know the reason why.”

“Good then. Thank you. We know how hard you work.”

With Severus de-fanged, Minerva knew she had shunted Albus’ single strongest supporter aside. The rest of the staff would follow her lead, most especially since two-thirds of the staff was female and tended to trust her judgement. 

“Finally, I am announcing today that I am stepping down from being the head of Gryffindor House. I am stretched as it is and that’s just one more position that I am not doing nearly as well as I should be. So, I am asking you, Rolanda, to take over that position.”

“You’re serious?” Rolanda Hooch asked.

“Yes, I am. It needs someone strong and respected and I can’t think of anyone else who’d be better at the position.”

Each house-head got an additional stipend of 350 Galleons per year, which made the burden somewhat more tolerable. Minerva intended to move Severus out of the headship for Slytherin, but it was one thing at a time. She’d have that done by Yule and no one would complain. 

“Do you accept, Rolanda?” Minerva said, looking down the length of the staff table.

“Yes, yes I do. Just maybe I can put together a winning team this year for them.”

Snape snickered. Slytherin had won the cup the last six years running and he thought it unlikely that Gryffindor was going to find both new beaters  _ and _ a new seeker all in the same year. 

Rolanda looked down the table at Severus. “Laugh it up, potions-boy. I get one good seeker and you’re cooked. God knows, you’ve not had one years.”

At this, the table dissolved in betting. Severus was heard to comment, “Bring it on”.

Albus knew he had lost. Not just for the moment, but for the foreseeable future. Minerva had effectively clipped his wings and made it impossible for him to get away with anything.

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harley and Hermione arrive at Hogwarts

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**From Chapter II - **

“Do you accept, Rolanda?” Minerva said, looking down the length of the staff table.

“Yes, yes I do. Just maybe I can put together a winning team this year for them.”

Snape snickered. Slytherin had won the cup the last six years running and he thought it unlikely that Gryffindor was going to find both new beaters  _ and _ a new seeker all in the same year. 

Rolanda looked down the table at Severus. “Laugh it up, potions-boy. I get one good seeker and you’re cooked. God knows, you’ve not had one years.”

At this, the table dissolved in betting. Severus was heard to comment, “Bring it on”.

Albus knew he had lost. Not just for the moment, but for the foreseeable future. Minerva had effectively clipped his wings and made it impossible for him to get away with anything.

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**September 1, 1991 – **

The portal leading to the Hogwarts Train was busy. It was as if most of magical England, Ireland, and Wales were there. Hermione, Harley, and Isabelle made their way to the portal, and through it, fairly quickly and efficiently. Since Isabelle had shrunk their things down such that everything that the two girls needed to carry were in two small leather pouches, they were able to walk through the portal without the worry of a large cart. Since neither girl had a familiar or pet, they were unburdened that way. Both planned to take a trip to Eyelop’s Owl emporium at some point, because owls were so incredibly useful. Neither was opposed to having a different kind of pet, but owls were known to be affectionate, smart, helpful, and protective and made both girls lean in that direction. 

Once they were through, the massive steam train, decked out as it was in red and black, with an orange front bumper, stood before them. It was a 4-6-0 Hall-Class steam locomotive, model number GWR 5900. 

Hermione was a bit of a train-nut, since it was one of primary ways to get around the UK. Faster, easier, and more reliable than flying and much cheaper than driving, since the price of Petrol was so high. Trains were also great, she thought, since they allowed you to sit back and  _ read _ . A book, a mug of tea, her teddy-bear, and she was at peace. Harley, on the other hand, was a stranger to trains. Boats? She loved them. Especially sail-boats. Going up and down the Hudson on her friend’s family-boat (a 59’ sailboat) was one of her great joys, since it allowed her the wind in her face, fresh air, and the peace and beauty of northern New York. 

Turning towards her mother, Harley said, “You sure you can’t come with me?”

Isabelle’s lower lip trembled and she hugged her daughter. “Love you too, Harley. And damn you for making me cry. I’m going to miss you more than you know.”

“Going to miss you. Remember than you are going to have to tell the Hogwarts nurse, ok?”

“Yes, my ever-practical daughter. I will do that.”

“Thank you, Isabelle. Harley is…”

“Your girlfriend. Yes, I know. I’m astonished that you found each other this early, but

I do understand it. Take care of each other, ok?”

Hermione looked at Isabelle with something that approximated a loving smile and then took Harley’s hand in her own. “Ready?”

“Mom…? I love you. Thank you for everything. I’ll be back at Yule, I promise.”

At that, Isabelle lost it and the tears started falling down her cheeks. “Love you too, sweetie. Owl me?”

Harley nodded, and then took Hermione’s hand and swept away, before her own tears threatened to overwhelm her.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

It was time to go. Hermione knew that Harley was in pain from leaving her mom, but the time had come. “C’mon. Let’s get a sleeping bench before they’re all gone.”

Harley turned, blew one final kiss to her mother, and then walked towards the train, hand-in-hand with Hermione. 

There were kids everywhere. Some were apparently very glad to see each other, Hermione could tell, since their hands were all over each other and many of them were already kissing madly. As they moved through the train, Hermione could see that the clothing of choice, at least for a lot of the older girls, were really, really short skirts. Some of them were so short as to be ‘scandalous’ according to her mother’s standards. It was obvious that they were being worn for the sake of the boys on the train. Everywhere Hermione and Harley looked, girls were getting felt up – and seeming to really like it. It was pretty much like a free-for-all, with no chaperones around. 

The two of them finally found a carriage with sleeper-benches and quickly claimed one. Once they extracted their shrunken blankets and set them back to normal size, they cuddled up together and, after some tearful kisses, settled in for a several-hour nap.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Harley woke up first. She was still groggy, but alert enough to see that they were surrounded by couples – mostly girls and boys, but a few girl-girl couples like them. One of the couples was being ‘amorous’. They were covered by a blanket, but it was obvious that the young man was pleasuring the girl with his hand and she was appreciating his touch very much.

Hermione was still asleep and her body was warm against Harley’s. It was peaceful and Harley wondered how much time during the school-year they were going to get that would allow them to snuggle like this. She hoped against hope that they would be able to sleep together at night. She couldn’t imagine why not, since they’d be in an all-girl dorm.  _ Hogwarts, a History _ wasn’t particularly clear on the point. It seemed to suggest that single-sex sleeping arrangements were fine, but Harley wanted more clarity on the subject before they openly declared themselves a couple. Not like they weren’t already, but students were one thing. Teachers… that was a whole different matter. 

Harley thought to herself  _ Tempus _ and a digital read-out appeared in the middle of the air. It said: 11:40 am. 

A voice from one of the benches opposite to them said, “Hey! Did you just do that wandlessly?”

Harley looked for the voice and saw that it was an older-looking girl; maybe a 5 th or 6 th year, who’s hair was cycling through a rainbow of colors.  _ Holy Shit. A Metamorph! Wow. Mom didn’t say anything about there being one at the school! _

“Yea? So?”

“Well, fuck, girl. That’s like… way beyond what a lot of us can do. What’s your name?”

Harley thought about this for a moment. She wasn’t sure what the etiquette was, so she gave her full name and hoped for the best. “I’m Lady Harley Janel Ross, of the House of Ross.”

The girl with the rainbow hair thought about this for a moment, after picking up her jaw from the floor. “Really?”

“Yea? Does that matter?”

“Hell yes. You’re the Lady of the House of Ross? The oldest of the Sacred Twenty-Eight?”

“Yes? And?” Harley was working with very limited information. She knew she was wealthy and she knew her house was old, but she had very little understanding of anything beyond that. She knew that she could, when she was 15, claim seats on the Wizengamot, for instance, and that she was legally immune from certain laws, given the age and status of her house, but beyond that, she didn’t know much.

“Well, first, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Nymphadora Tonks-Black, of the House of Black. Please don’t ever call me by my first name. I answer to ‘Tonks’ and that’s it. Second, I’m a 7 th year, so you won’t see me much, and third…”

“You’re a Metamorph! I’ve read about them. Can we talk tonight? I have some questions that I  _ have _ to ask you.” Harley leaned on the word, to make sure that it was understood.

“Oh… ok. I’m in Hufflepuff House. If you have to find me, ask for Professor Sprout. She’s our Head-of-House.”

“I will. Right after dinner, I hope.”

Nymphadora nodded. “Now, who’s that sleeping on you?”

Harley looked down at the still-sleeping Hermione. She ran her fingers through Hermione’s hair and then looked at Nymphadora. “This is the Lady Hermione Dagworth-Granger, of the House of Dagworth. She’s my girlfriend.”

This time, Nymphadora struggled to pick her jaw up off the carriage floor. “Are you shitting me?”

“Nope. Hermione’s the last of the line.”

Nymphadora’s eyes went huge and she sputtered for a moment. “Oh, merciful Merlin! You’re kidding, right?”

“Why should I lie to you? I don’t even know you.”

“Yea, well… why indeed. I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m really well… shocked. If your girlie there inherited the entire magical legacy, it means she could probably wipe the floor with all of us when she comes into her maturity.”

“Yea, that’s about what the Goblins said. Something about catastrophic growth and some other stuff that I didn’t understand.”

“What’s her wand?”

“Ummm. I think it’s 10 & 5/8ths Cedar, with a Griffon-feather and blood core.”

Nymphadora digested that for a moment. She knew a little bit about wand lore and what went into some of the more powerful wands. She had never heard of a Griffon core though! 

“What was the bonding like? Did you see it?”

“Yea… like the room turned itself inside-out for a moment. There was this huge, bright light and I could smell things that I associated with her.”

Nymphadora put her hands to her face and rubbed her eyes for a moment. She didn’t even know what to do with the information she had just been given. “Did the Goblins say anything about her magical maturity?”

Harley thought about that for a moment and then said, “Yea. Something about Magus, but I didn’t really get it.”

Nymphadora just about peed herself. “Did you just say,  _ Magus _ ?”

“Yea? What does that mean? I couldn’t find a book on it and believe me, we looked.”

“Yea… well, you wouldn’t. I think that the Headmaster has done everything he can to suppress that kind of information. You might have better luck on the Continent. First, Magi come in  _ pairs. _ So, if she’s a Magus and you two are already together, then… you’re probably a Magus as well or you’re going to be when your magical maturity hits. Second, there aren’t any Magi in the country right now. There wasn’t been one for like… 600 years or something. They’re crazy-rare. Third, in the hierarchy of magicals, Magi are the top. That’s as high as you go. Fuck! I can’t believe I’m the one to tell you this.”

“The headmaster’s a Magus”

“What!”

“The Headmaster’s a Magus, or so say the Goblins.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yup. That’s what Ragnok said.”

“Just wait a fucking second. Did you just say that you met with the King of the Goblins?”

“Ah… yes?”

Hermione stirred next to her and Harley looked down, into her girls’ brown eyes. “Hi, love”

“What’s all the yelling about?”

“Oh, sorry love. This is Nymphadora. I was just talking to her about what Ragnok had to say and she got excited. I told her about your wand, too, since she seemed interested in that.”

“What time is it?”

Harley closed her eyes for a moment and the time once again appeared to her. 11:55 am. “Go back to sleep love. I’ll wake you in an hour.”

Hermione looked at her with love and then felt Harley’s soft magic very, very gently push her back to sleep.

Harley looked up again and Nymphadora was all but hyperventilating. “How the fuck did you just do that? I could feel magic stirring, but you didn’t take out your wand or anything.”

“It’s easy. I just touched my magic and used just a very little bit of it to touch her magic and got her to go back to go back to sleep. It’s like a magical suggestion. You don’t have to do much. Magic is alive and it will do what you want. You just have to know how to… well…  _ show _ it what you want. That’s not a great term for it, but it’s close. At least, that’s what my mother said. She made me practice every day, all summer. Me and Hermione. Once we learned how to find our magic, she showed us how to use it to do a lot of stuff.”

Nymphadora needed a drink. Rum was just not going to cut it. Maybe some of that Tequila that Francesca liked so much. “What else can you do?”

Harley shrugged. “Meh. Standard stuff, really. Layered illusions. Those were hard to learn. Beginning transfigurations. That was fun. Animal summoning. Conjury. That was fun. Dangerous, but fun. We learned some DADA stuff. I can’t show you any of that without her permission. Oh… we learned the Norse Alphabet for Runes-casting.”

Tonks blinked.  _ What the fuck are they teaching in MPS these days? Conjury? _ Her mind was swimming with questions. “Can you shield wandlessly?”

“Um. Yea? I learned that last year. It’s not hard. My mother showed me how to visualize what I wanted and that made it really easy.”

“What’s  _ your _ wand?” Tonks asked; a little terrified to learn what this burgeoning Magus carried. 

“Oh. It’s Blackthorn, 11 & 1/8”, with a core of the blood and feathers of a Thunderbird, along with my mother’s blood.”

That set Nymphadora to gibbering in fear, though she didn’t say anything. Blood-cores were reserved for those who were, at least generally, so powerful that nothing else would bond with them. Further, once made and bonded, a blood-core wand could never be taken from its owner, despite the fact that the Ministry had tried to ban them at various times. 

Her ruminations were broken up by the Lunch-lady, who was pushing a fully-loaded trolley of goodies. Harley didn’t want to move, but she was hungry. “Nymphadora? Could you do me a favor?”

Tonks looked at her as if she had two heads. “Of course. What do you want?”

“I have my Gringotts medallion on a necklace. Could you take it off me and use it, please, to buy us some stuff for lunch? And get yourself some stuff as well?”

Tonks was set back by the fact that this young girl had a Gringotts medallion. It signified someone who was a ‘most valuable client’ at Gringotts – in other words, someone who is as rich as Croesus. 

“Ah. Yes, of course. What do you want?”

From there, the conversation devolved into food, the quality (or lack thereof) of British food, what the States offered, and Florian Fortescue’s ice-cream choices. When the Trolley finally came by, Harley woke Hermione and the three of them ate, until they were ready for more sleep.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Just before 6pm, GMT – Northern Scotland **

It had been a long train-ride and both Harley and Hermione were looking forward to getting off the train and to their bedroom; dinner be damned. But, they both knew that it just wasn’t going to be that easy. Getting into their school outfits had been bad enough. Not that the uniforms were uncomfortable really, but they were cold and unflattering. Both girls were grateful that they didn’t have to wear bras. Although neither was ready for one, that would soon change they knew. Isabelle had taught both of them the support charm that would alleviate a need for a bra, but not for a chemise. There was nothing magic could do about the reality of biological maturation. Some things just *hurt*. 

When the train pulled into the station, the two saw the biggest man either had ever seen.  **““Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!” he called out. **

**Hagrid’s big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads. **

**“C’mon, follow me — any more firs’ years? Mind yer step, now! Firs’ years follow me!” Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. **

** “Yeh’ll get yer firs’ sight o’ Hogwarts in a sec,” Hagrid called over his shoulder, “jus’ round this bend here.” There was a loud “Oooooh!” The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers. **

**“No more’n four to a boat!” Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore**

**“Everyone in?” shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. “Right then — FORWARD!” And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood. **

**“Heads down!” yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles. - ** Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, pg. 60.

Once inside the castle, they were greeted by an older, but sternly beautiful woman who told them about the ‘Houses’ of Hogwarts and that the Houses would be their families for the next seven years. Once they were lined up, she led them inside, to see the Great Hall and to be sorted. Harley and Hermione held hands and tried reassure each other. They had both read “Hogwarts, a History” and knew about the enchanted ceiling, which didn’t keep it from being amazing and beautiful.

They were gathered in the front of the hall, waiting for what was next. Deputy Headmistress made a show of bringing out a tall, weathered, pointed brown leather had and placing it on a stool. Both Hermione and Harley were agog when the brim of the hat lifted up and the damn thing started to  _ sing: _

**“Oh, you may not think I’m pretty, **

**But don’t judge on what you see, **

**I’ll eat myself if you can find **

**A smarter hat than me. **

**You can keep your bowlers black, **

**Your top hats sleek and tall, **

**For I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat **

**And I can cap them all. **

**There’s nothing hidden in your head **

**The Sorting Hat can’t see, **

**So try me on and I will tell you **

**Where you ought to be. **

**You might belong in Gryffindor, **

**Where dwell the brave at heart, **

**Their daring, nerve, and chivalry **

**Set Gryffindors apart; **

**You might belong in Hufflepuff, **

**Where they are just and loyal, **

**Those patient Hufflepuffs are true **

**And unafraid of toil; **

**Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, **

**If you’ve a ready mind, **

**Where those of wit and learning, **

**Will always find their kind; **

**Or perhaps in Slytherin **

**You’ll make your real friends, **

**Those cunning folk use any means **

**To achieve their ends. **

**So put me on! Don’t be afraid! **

**And don’t get in a flap! **

**You’re in safe hands (though I have none) **

**For I’m a Thinking Cap!” **

**\- ** Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, pg. 64

Harley and Hermione could not keep from clapping, along with the rest of the first-years. Harley whispered into Hermione’s ear, “ _ I love magic!” _ , to which Hermione just grinned. 

When the applause died down, the Deputy Headmistress came forward with a wide scroll and said,  **“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,”(page 65).**

The first girl called was Abbott, Hannah! A beautiful blond-haired girl with pigtails who bounced up the three stairs to where the Sorting Hat stood and practically jammed it on her head. “Hufflepuff!” The hat roared. There was great applause as the newest Hufflepuff ran down the stairs and straight to the Hufflepuff table, where she was greeted warmly. 

The Deputy Headmistress made her way through the list, finally coming to Granger, Hermione!

“Go for it, love.” Harley whispered to her. 

Hermione did just that. She wasn’t quite as exuberant and Hannah Abbott, but she got up the stairs and all but grabbed the hat and shoved it on. 

_ “Hello, Hat” _

_ “Oh! What the hell?” _

_ “Hat?” _

_ “Albus didn’t say anything about a Magus coming to the school!” _

_ “Probably because he doesn’t know. Only the Goblins do and Ragnok isn’t telling anyone else.” _

_ “So where to put you? You’ve a beautiful mind – cunning, clever. Lots of courage I see. You’d be great anywhere.” _

_ “Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin.” _

_ “You sure?” _

_ “Yes. I would have to kill them all and we don’t need that, do we?” _

_ “Well, no. I don’t think Albus would appreciate that. So where then?” _

_ “Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. So long as I’m with Harley, that’s all that matters.” _

_ “Oh! Damn the Headmistress to hell. She didn’t tell me. Well, if you’re very certain, better be _

_ GRYFFINDOR!” _

Harley clapped for Hermione as her bff ran to the Gryffindor table.

The Deputy Headmistress made her way through the rest of the roll. She noted that she did not see *that* name on the roll. Eventually, she got down to Rivers, Oliver – who took his sweet time being sorted into Ravenclaw. 

“Ross, Harley!”

She walked the stairs somewhat more sedately than her girl had done, but wasn’t lackadaisical about it, either. When she got to the top step, she turned to the Deputy Headmistress and said, quietly, “Isabelle sends her love.”

“It’s you?” Minerva responded, trying to hide her shocked face.

Harley nodded, almost imperceptibly, knowing that the Headmaster was watching. 

Minerva placed the hat on her and waited. 

_ “Hello, Hat.  _

“ ** _Hmm,” said a small voice in his ear. “Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There’s talent, oh my goodness, yes — and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that’s interesting. … So where shall I put you?” _ **

_ “Gryffindor, please.  _ ** _Not Slytherin, not Slytherin. _ **

** _“Not Slytherin, eh?” said the small voice. “Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it’s all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that — no? Well, if you’re sure — better be GRYFFINDOR!” _ ** ** (** **Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, pg. 66),**

Harley tossed the hat off and ran to the Gryffindor table, where her girl was bouncing up and down with excitement. The moment they were back together, Harley snuck in a quick kiss. It didn’t go unnoticed.

Albus Dumbledore looked out at the see of faces, both new and old. He knew that there was something missing. He could feel it, but nothing he could do told him what he had to do to figure out what that thing was. It was as if the thing that he was missing was being deliberately obscured from his sight. 

Because of years of habit, Albus got to his feet and moved to the central podium.  **He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there. “Welcome!” he said. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! “Thank you!” He sat back down. **

**Everybody clapped and cheered. (Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, pg. 66-7).**

Harley was going to say something, but Hermione squeezed her hand and so the two of them went quiet, except for a couple of comments back and forth while they ate. Hermione knew that Harley wanted desperately to go and see the Deputy Headmistress, but they had agreed, for reasons of security as well as discretion, to wait until classes started. They could arrange to speak with Minerva while the Headmaster was otherwise distracted or out of the castle. Harley also wanted to speak with Tonks some more, about her most private issues. 

For both of those meetings, Harley wanted Hermione present. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust herself, but rather that Hermione was the most important person in her world, next to her mother, and there was no way that she wasn’t going to share the important, private moments of her life with her.  _ By next year, I’m getting her a ring. _ Harley thought. It struck her to the core that she wanted that so badly, but she did.  _ Going to have to talk to Mom. _

After the singing of the school song, which was done each to his or her own tune, Hermione and Harley couldn’t wait to get out of the Great Hall and to their new dorm room. They both needed to unpack, organize, and get set up for the next day. Harley hadn’t attended organized, ever-school-day kind of school for several years. Magical primary school ended at the end of 5 th grade and Harley had skipped it, since she already knew everything that would be taught. She spent the next year learning from Isabelle directly. Hermione had been the same way; blowing through elementary school by her 4 th year and leaving, with the hope of having more interesting things to study. She had picked up piano, violin, martial arts, and outdoor survival skills – which Jake and Miranda had endorsed completely. 

Hand-in-hand, Harley and Hermione walked out of the Great Hall, along with the rest of the new Gryffindors. They did not go unobserved. The kids, both ahead and behind them, knew that these two girls were more-than-just-friends. Friends didn’t kiss like the two had. “Friends” didn’t move with the closeness and focus that the two girls did. “Friends” didn’t give off that vibe that says, “Back off, she’s mine” like the two girls did, and “friends” didn’t give off waves of magic when they held hands, like the two girls did. Even the Weasley twins, who were known to have a preternaturally close and strong twin relationship, knew that messing with the two girls might end up being a significant mistake. The only one who seemed to be unable to keep his mouth shut was the youngest Weasley brother, Ron. He was, for the moment, struggling with a  _ Silencing _ hex and one of Harley’s favorites – the Cramp hex, which made you feel like you were getting your period… only 10x worse. Harley was able to cast both silently and wandlessly and had done so the moment that the red-haired Sassenach started in on “dykes don’t belong in Gryffindor”. Harley wondered how long the boy was going to fight the hexes, give up, and go off to Madame Pomfrey. 

When they got to Gryffindor tower, the local poltergeist, Peeves, showed up. Isabelle had been very insistent with her that if she ever came across a summoned demi-demon that she was to deal with it quickly and directly. Whipping out her wand, Harley aimed at the poltergeist and said, “ ** _Eieci te ad infernum!”_ ** **. ** Peeves exploded into a blinding light and was gone in an instant. The back-wash from her use of magic rolled over everyone present. Hermione squeezed her hand affectionately and reveled in her girlfriend’s power. It was more than a little intoxicating. 

“What did you just do?!” The red-haired Prefect yelled at her. “And how did you do that?”

Harley turned and looked up at him, contrite. “I banished him to Hell.”

“I got that! But  _ how _ did you do that? You’ve not even started classes yet! Where did you learn how to do that?!”

Everyone was quiet as they listened to her. They had never seen anyone take on Peeves before. “I’m from the States you see and… well, we don’t like summoned creatures. My mother taught me how to banish them, so I did.”

Percy Weasley didn’t know what else to say. He had never, ever seen anyone do what the young girl in front of him had just done. He was sure that he was going to have to report the entire incident to their new head of house, Rolanda Hooch, and to the Deputy Headmistress in the morning. He was also sure that whatever tuition break his family got from him being a Prefect just wasn’t worth it any more.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Percy Weasley wasn’t the only one who was aware that something very unusual had happened. In his  _ sanctum sanctorum _ , Albus Dumbledore felt the harmonic waves crash against him from the castle’s wards. Someone had just used extremely powerful magic.

Looking at the paintings of the school’s former headmasters, all of whom were answerable to him, he said, “Go. Find out what you can and then come back here as quickly as possible. Someone’s just used very powerful, restricted magic.”

The headmasters fled their portraits, as directed, so that they could query all of the other magical paintings in the school. It didn’t take long.

“Headmaster?”

“Yes, what is it Amrose?”

“One of the Gryffindor firsties is said to have done demon-magic!”

“Did Godric see it?”

“Yes, Headmaster. He said that one of the new girls banished Peeves!”

“How? No firstie should have that kind of power!”

“This one did, apparently. Sent him straight to Hell.”

Albus Dumbledore sat down hard. For a first-year student to be able to banish a Class 3 Poltergeist meant that said student was way beyond what she should be in terms of magical power. Even he hadn’t been able to do such magic when he was the same age – and he was the only living Magus in the Kingdom. 

“Anything more that we should do, Headmaster?”

“No, Amrose. That’s all. Thank you. Thank your brethren for me too.”

“Will do, Headmaster. Have a good evening.”

Albus nodded. He wondered what he was going to have to do in the morning. He couldn’t very well chastise a firstie for being powerful… but he also couldn’t just ignore her presence, either. Students with that kind of power often got into trouble, simply because they were bored. If the coursework wasn’t a challenge… well, there was a saying about idle hands. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

In the 1 st year girls’ dorm, it was anything but idle. Near-chaos reigned as beds were picked out, things were organized, stored, then re-arranged in favor of a new configuration. The chatter was loud and lively, too. Fay Dunbar, Parvati Patil, Hermione Granger, Harley Ross, Lavender Brown, and Afshan Azad all vied for space. Of course, Hermione and Harley picked their beds side-by-side, and let the other girls know that the extra bed would be freed up, since they were a couple and were going to sleep together, provided that no one minded. 

“Who else knows that you’re together?” Parvati asked. 

“Officially?” Hermione asked rhetorically. “No one. However, Nymphadora Tonks does and I think that the Weasley Twins picked up on it and their snot-nosed brother Ron seemed to get it as well.”

Harley stood up and took Hermione’s hand in hers. “Does anyone have a problem that Hermione and I are together?” She looked around, with her wand up and obvious. 

The four girls looked at them and realized the implied threat. No one, after seeing Harley’s power, wanted any piece of her. “Ah… I think that I speak for the four of us in saying that no, we don’t have a problem. Just… please don’t hurt us and we won’t say anything.”

Harley immediately dropped her wand onto the bed said, hand open, “Look, I’ve never hurt anyone, ‘cept for that poltergeist. My mother would be very, very unhappy with me if I used my magic to bully people. She’d probably pull my ass home and ground me for good. So… so long as you are nice to Hermione and leave us alone, we’ll be friends and we’ll have fun together, alright?”

The four girls all smiled and felt very relieved. It was one thing to know that there are powerful witches in the world. It was quite another thing to see one in action and realize you have to room with her.

The rest of the night passed by, as if the whole incident with the poltergeist had never happened. 

As Hermione crawled into bed next to her girl, and the room went dark, she felt a hand reach out and pull her close. Harley’s lips met hers and Hermione knew, at least for the moment, that all was right with the world. The morning would bring what it would bring, and nothing could stop it, but for the moment, she was at peace. She was loved, protected, and right where she wanted to be.

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**Breakfast – 7am – The Great Hall**

Harley wasn’t usually one for getting up early, but she would do anything for Hermione, so she was up, dressed, organized, and sitting next to her girl by the time that 7am rolled around. 

The one saving grace at Hogwarts was that there wasn’t just English tea… there was COFFEE – otherwise known as Nature’s most perfect food. Sometimes referred to as “Plasma”. Harley’s mom, Isabelle, was known to drink 36 oz of coffee before she coherent in the morning – and she had taught Harley all about the magic elixir of life. It started with  _ very _ lightly roasted coffee beans. It required clear, clean, chlorine-free water, a little bit of sugar during the brewing, and enough whole milk to take the final product to a light-brown color, much like beach-sand. It required peace and quiet. And a weapon, with which to guard the magical fluid. It kept her from killing people. Hawaiian Blue-Kona Coffee. The best on Earth. 

Harley was drinking the life-giving fluid. Quietly. She wasn’t bothering anyone. She even had the courtesy to put up a magical, flashing sign above her head, warning people that she was having her coffee and was to be left alone until it was finished. Hermione was guarding her love and drinking her own life-giving fluid – something that would have horrified Jake and Miranda. She couldn’t care. Anything that gave her the strength to get through the day and accomplish all of the necessary reading was, by definition, critical. It was, therefore, horrifying and infuriating that the Deputy Headmistress chose that moment to interrupt them. 

“Ms. Ross, Ms. Granger, the Headmaster would like to speak with you.”

The sign above Harley’s head shifted. Now it said, “Go away. We’re drinking our coffee.”

“That will be 10 points from Gryffindor for your impertinence!”

The sign shifted again. “Don’t care. Go away. When we’re finished, we’ll talk.”

This time, the Deputy Headmistress’ wand was out and the sign waivered for a moment, as she tried to delete it. 

It shifted again. “No. Seriously. Go away.”

“That will be fifty points from Gryffindor! And Detention!”

The sign shifted again. “Don’t care. Leave us alone.”

The rest of Gryffindor house – at least those present for breakfast, were laughing up a storm. They had never seen the Deputy Headmistress told to go away. Not even by the Weasley twins, who always skirted the edge of what was acceptable, or at least punishable.

Minerva McGonagall stormed off in a huff, swearing under her breath and vowing vengeance on her great grand-niece. 

There was clapping from a number of the students, in celebration of two students who had stood up to authority and told it what it could do with itself. This infuriated Minerva even more. She knew that the house-point system and the House-cup were artificial tools and silly enticements that the staff used to try to coerce good behavior from the students and that any serious challenge to that system, or an organized rebellion to it, could make discipline in the school that much harder to maintain. 

She had also never encountered an American’s attitude towards authority. She had no idea that the first instinct of most Americans, when pushed, was to push back, hard.

Marching up to Albus’ office, she knocked on the door only presumptively and then barged in. “Albus. Where are you?”

“Behind you.”

Minerva whipped around and saw her boss standing at the window, looking out. “I tried to bring Ms. Ross and Ms. Granger up here, but they told me to go away and let them finish drinking their coffee. They  _ laughed at me! _ ”

Albus rubbed his eyes and looked at his deputy. “Didn’t you say, Minerva, that Ms. Ross is an American?”

“Well yes, I did.”

“What do you know about the Americans?”

“Not much. I know that the Magical Congress is fairly liberal and I know that there are a lot more of them than there are of us.”

“But you don’t really know them at all, correct?”

“Well…yes”

“Then you don’t have any idea about their view of authority, do you?”

“No, not as such”

“Minerva. I adore you.” He said condescendingly, “You and I have worked together for many, many years. I thought you had tried to get to know some of our brethren from overseas.” 

“I’ve never really had the time, Albus. After the War, I came here to teach and I just never left.”

“I understand, Minerva. I wish you had taken some time to get to know the Americans. They are amazing. Powerful, creative, independent, and highly magical. They don’t like authority. When pushed, they push back. They teach their children to be independent and explore the world. They teach them that literally nothing is impossible and that they can be anything that they want to be. They don’t give a damn about kings or queens or lords or ladies – they don’t have any inherited titles, in fact. They even have a written Bill of Rights. Something that the Kingdom has yet to get around to doing. Free speech is vital to their way of thinking. Telling someone to go away is an exercise in that right. You might not like it, but you have to understand it. Now, would you like to go back down and gently invite them to come up here when they’re ready?”

Minerva could feel the bile rising in her throat. It made her sick to think that a Yank could view her authority the way that Albus had described, and that said Yank would believe it to be his/her right to tell her to piss off. It was so exactly different than the way she was raised!

That it was her great grand-niece’s adopted daughter telling her to piss off was just a bridge too far! Surely Isabelle would have taught her daughter to respect authority!

As she re-entered the Great Hall, she was greeted by a far different scene. There was laughter and talking and the offending sign was gone. Harley and Hermione were sitting in the middle of a group of witches, talking and laughing and stealing food from each other’s plates. Minerva counted at least 30 witches, at least several from each of the four houses. The boys were off on the periphery, watching. 

Minerva approached them, carefully. Her wand was away and she tried to put a smile on her face. Harley saw her coming and squeezed Hermione’s hand in warning.

“Good morning, Deputy Headmistress. Thank you for waiting until we had had our coffee. Is the Headmaster still needing to see us?”

Minerva was taken aback and disarmed, all in one fell swoop. She couldn’t rage against the girl – at least not publicly, and not look like an ass. She had nowhere to go.

“Yes, Ms. Ross. He would love to see you, if you have the time.”

Harley grinned internally. They had successfully de-fanged the Deputy Headmistress in one move and won friends and admirers from across the houses and school years. It was even better than should could have imagined. The gossip at  _ Flourish and Blotts _ was, apparently, worth its weight in gold. 

Hermione and Harley rose, together, and walked the length of the Gryffindor house-table, before joining the Deputy Headmistress. Harley signaled that she should lead the way. It wasn’t far to the Headmaster’s office. Up one flight of stairs, a right and then a left and they were at the Gargoyle that guarded the passageway to his office.

“Sherbet Lemon” Minerva said quietly, which caused the Gargoyle to leap aside.

Again, Harley signaled that Minerva should lead the way, which she did, reluctantly. It gave Harley time to slide her wand free. Hermione did the same thing. Better to be ready than not, they knew.

When the door opened, Minerva strode in. Harley and Hermione followed, but stood off to her left, so that she would have to work cross-body, if she took her wand to them. It was paranoid thinking, but Isabelle had reiterated to them again and again that  _ Constant vigilance _ was always preferable to getting caught unprepared. 

Since Harley was left-handed, Hermione stood to her right, so that they could complement and protect each other. Albus saw this and wondered who had been teaching them. It was obvious that someone who knew what he or she was doing had instructed them, because they were already ready for a fight. Their wands were out, though not obviously so, and they were tense, despite their effort to seem at ease. 

Was it possible that someone had warned them about him? What did they know? He tried to meet their eyes but was unable to do so. They kept looking past him or down at the floor. What did that mean? Had it become an open secret that he read students’ minds? Were people teaching their children about that? What else was known? The sudden thought of parents throughout the Kingdom teaching their children how to block out his Legilimency worried him a great deal. 

“You asked for us, Headmaster?”

Albus was taken off-guard for a moment and it took a second or two for him to come back to the moment and engage with the two young women. “Yes, I did. One of you, and I don’t know which, banished the poltergeist, Peeves, last night. I need to know how you did that and why.”

Harley thought about this. He didn’t want anyone poking into Hermione’s life or into her magic, so she stepped up and took the hit. “That was me, sir. I banished the demon, as I had been taught to do.”

Albus was shaken by that. “What do you mean, ‘as you were taught to do’?” 

“Exactly that, sir. I was taught by one of my tutors how to banish such a demon. It was a class-3 and I can banish up to a class 5. Maybe a 6, on a good day.”

“Ok. So  _ how _ did you banish Peeves? That’s not magic we teach here.”

“No sir, it certainly doesn’t seem to be, though it probably should be. As to how… well, I sent it back to hell. It was a straight-up banishment.”

“What do you mean by, ‘straight-up banishment?”

“I mean exactly that. I cast a variation of  ** _‘_ ** ** _in exsilium agere, et ad inferos’_ ** ”

The headache that the Headmaster was developing was coming on fast. The thought of a first-year student being able to cast such a powerful charm, for that was what it really was, terrified him. It was like Lily Potter all over again. She had been a walking terror as well. 

“Any other questions, Headmaster? We really have to get to class and I’ve books to get from the other side of the castle.”

It was the out that Albus was looking for, even if he didn’t know it. “No, no. You’ve answered my questions. Thank you.”

The two girls backed out the door, never turning their backs to him until they were out of the line of fire. It didn’t go unnoticed.  _ Someone, _ he realized, was warning people about him. He had to find out who that was and put a stop to it. He couldn’t run a school if he couldn’t read students thoughts or do the other things that were necessary in order to maintain discipline, security, and his security/information network. If someone had cottoned onto the fact that he was doing things that weren’t necessarily in his students’ best interests, he was going to have a problem. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**9am – 1** **st** **-year Potions**

Harley, Hermione, and the other 1st-year Gryffindors mingled around the doorway to the Potions lab, along with a number of the newest Slytherins. The only antagonistic face was that of Draco Malfoy, but he was contained by the fact that they had all seen Harley fend off the Deputy Headmistress, both wordlessly and wandlessly, testifying to her power, control, and understanding of magic. 

The door opened and the students, 30 of them, filed in. Contrary to what they had been taught to expect, the room was exceptionally well lighted and there were working sinks by each potions-station, as well as an emergency shower in the back of the room. 

A bubbly, pink-haired 7 th year student stood at the front of the rom, wearing the unmistakable badge of a professor. 

“Good morning. My name is Nymphadora Tonks-Black. You can call me Tonks or Ms. Black or Professor. I don’t care. Call me by my first name and I’ll see you in detention. We clear on that?”

Heads nodded.

“Good. Now, Here’s the situation. I’m a 7 th yr. student who’s been asked to teach you introductory potions. This is not a hard class. You work carefully and slowly and follow the directions  _ exactly _ and you should be fine. IF YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND THE DIRECTIONS… ASK. I will not tolerate those who do stupid shit and get others in the class hurt. Some of the potions that we will be brewing can EXPLODE at certain stages, if you don’t follow directions. ARE WE CLEAR ON THAT?”

“Now, I will happily throw you out of the class  _ permanently _ and turn you into a brick if you try to sabotage your classmate’s work. That kind of shit can get people killed or badly, badly injured. ARE WE CLEAR ON THAT?”

Everyone nodded. 

“Now, get out your kits, if you have them. We’re going to go over all of the parts of the kits you bought and we will talk about each piece and why it’s in there. We’re going to talk about SAFETY for the next two days. Potions is a very, very dangerous class and things can go wrong in an instant if you’re not careful. Professor Snape is the way he is because he’s never lost a student to a lab-accident and he doesn’t intend to start now. I AM NOT GOING TO LET HIM DOWN. ARE WE CLEAR ON THAT?”

“Yes, Ms. Tonks” could be heard from parts of the room. 

_ So far, so good _ , Tonks thought to herself. The kids seemed to be responded.  _ Maybe I can really do this! _ It was an exciting thought for her. Being a Metamorph always seemed to be pushing her down the path of law-enforcement. She had never thought about teaching before the Deputy Headmistress had approached her over the summer. 

“Any questions so far?”

Hermione raised her hand.  _ Well, there was no stopping that _ , Harley thought with an internal grin.

“Yes Miss… ?”

“Granger, Ms. Tonks. Hermione Granger”.

“Were you the one to banish Peeves last night, Ms. Granger?”

Hermione shook her head. “No, Ms. Tonks. That was Harley, here.”

Hermione pointed to Harley, who immediately tried to shrink beneath the desk. 

Tonks looked at her and then at Harley. Based on their conversation from the train, Tonks realized that she had underestimated the two powerhouses. 

“That was an interesting piece of magic, Ms. Ross.” Tonks said.

Another hand went up. “Yes?”

“Draco Malfoy, Ms. Tonks. I’m a cousin of yours, through House Black.”

“Welcome, cousin. Nice to meet you. What was your question?”

“Did you just say that a first-year banished Peeves?”

“Yup. She’s sitting two rows behind you. Sent him straight to hell. Amazing magic.”

“That’s not possible!”

Tonks grinned. “Cousin Draco. Let’s just say that you’re going to have to re-consider the things that you think are impossible. Lady Ross, and yes, she deserves the title, was witnessed to have done the magic in question. I recommend to all of you that you believe me and leave it at that.”

There was a great deal of shouting in the next moment. So much so that Tonks had to fire off a cannon-blast, in order to restore control. “ENOUGH. I will have no more shouting in this class! ARE WE CLEAR?”

The contrite first-years quieted down and focused on the work again. 

“Good. That’s better. Now, open your kits and we’ll begin. If you did not get one of the modified shopping lists over the summer, come see me and we’ll arrange for you to get one through the school. Some of your friends and classmates may have slightly better equipment, but that is because they got the lists early and were able to go out and make their own personal modifications, based on what their parents thought was appropriate. We’ll make sure, here, that you’re not left behind because of equipment. Your grade shouldn’t be dependent on what you were able or not able to spend over the summer. That wouldn’t be fair or just.”

“Speaking of that, I will, when I’m not in class myself, make hours available to you so that you can come to me and ask questions about the course-work. I would suggest that you arrange, as quickly as possible, potions study-groups. I don’t want  _ anyone _ to be brewing outside of this classroom! You can, however, learn about ingredient-interactions, substitute ingredients for potions, alternative preparation techniques, and techniques for enhancing potions, to make them stronger or weaker. Those kinds of things WILL show up on your quarterly exam as well as on your final. They will show up in your practical test at the mid-term and at the final as well. Quizzes will be every week. I will test you on the readings, on the interactions-tables, and on alternative ingredient lists. If you’re good at memorizing things, you’ll do well on those quizzes. If not, you need to focus on being really good in your practical exams. ARE WE CLEAR ON THIS?”

“Yes, Ms. Tonks” came back to her from many parts of the room. 

“Good! WRITE ALL OF THAT DOWN NOW in your notes. I want to make sure that you all start out knowing what the expectations are. 

“Finally, I want you all to know that I EXPECT EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU to get an O in this class. I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT. ARE WE CLEAR ON THAT?”

“YES MS. TONKS!” came the firm reply from almost the entire room. 

“Ok! Now. Open your kits and let’s begin!”

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

First-year potions let out at 10:30 am and there was a mad scramble to get kits and bags packed up and ready for the next class. Harley and Hermione were speaking quietly and getting their things together when Tonks called out, “Ms. Ross, Ms. Granger, please stay for a moment.”

Harley’s and Hermione’s eyes met for a moment. Both slipped their wands down so that they were hidden just inside their sleeves. There was every reason to maintain  _ constant vigilance. _

When the rest of the class had filed out, Hermione and Harley walked to stand in from of Tonks’ desk. 

“That was a great class, Ms. Tonks.”

“You’re welcome. Glad that it worked for you. Now, what I’m about to tell you has to be kept between the three of us.”

Hermione and Harley nodded. 

“My cousin, Draco Malfoy, is a Slytherin. His father, Lucius Malfoy, sits on the school board. He  _ will _ hear about you banishing Peeves. He will also hear about your ascension to the Peerage, Lady Ross. He’s not likely to be happy about either and he may try to cause you problems because of it. Now, you told me on the train that you’re in contact with Lord Ragnok.”

Harley nodded and didn’t say anything.

“You may need his help, if you think that he may be inclined to give it. Malfoy is not an enemy that I’d want to have. He’s a Death-eater and a follower of you-know-who.”

Harley leaned over when Hermione got a questioning look on her face and whispered in her ear, “The bastard who killed my birth-parents, Hermione. He called himself “Lord Voldemort” but his real name, at least my mother thinks, is Tom Riddle – a half-blood like me. That’s who Lucius follows.”

Hermione nodded imperceptibly.

Tonks wasn’t a fool though. She recognized that the two girls knew something she didn’t.

“I don’t know what you know, but I’m telling you – stay away from Malfoy if you can.”

Harley giggled. “Don’t worry about him. My mother cut his wand in half this summer when he tried to jump us. He’s a patsy. Hermione and I can deal with him, either apart or together. He’s not that much of a threat.”

Tonks looked at her in astonishment. “What, exactly, do you mean… your mother cut his wand in half?”

Harley looked at her, thinking about something for a moment. “When’s your next free period?”

Tonks said, “I teach until 4 today. I have 4:30 to 5:30 free. I could meet you then.”

“Where?”

“Come to Hufflepuff House. There’s a room we can meet in that will be safe.”

“4:30?”

“See you then.”

Harley and Hermione packed up and left, after setting a magical reminder to find Tonks at 4:30 in Hufflepuff House. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

The two of them had to run to make it to Transfiguration on time, but they did, with 30 seconds to spare. Taking seats in front, the two unpacked their notebooks and prepared to face Professor McGonagall.

They didn’t see the cat at first, but when they did, they watched it and saw, with both surprise and some amount of delight, that the cat was moving in a distinctly human fashion. It was funny even, to watch the cat jump up on a student’s desk and point to the book-bag on the floor, unopened, with neither quill, nor parchment ready. 

The “cat” moved to the front of the room and then, suddenly, flowed up into the person of Minerva McGonagall. Everyone clapped. 

“Thank you. My name is Professor Minerva McGonagall. I am your transfiguration professor and will be for the next seven years, unless or until someone comes along who’s better at it than I am or who wants the job more. Now, this is one of the two most dangerous classes that you will take at Hogwarts. IF I CATCH YOU screwing up or doing something for which you are not ready, I will bounce you out of Hogwarts faster than you can say  _ boo. _ What we do here is both highly regulated and extremely difficult and you can hurt things and people if you are not very careful. ARE WE CLEAR?”

“Yes, professor” the class responded, almost as one. 

“Good. Now take out your quills and parchment, or your biros and pens, for the first-born among you, and let’s take some notes. We will be attempting one simply transfiguration at the end of class, but there are some things you need to know before we do that. So, let’s begin…”

And they did. For the next forty-five minutes, McGonagall told them about some of the fundamental do’s and don’ts of transfiguration, along with some of the known limitations to the art. By the time that they were ready to do their first practicum, Harley’s writing hand hurt. 

“Ok, now put your pens or quills and your notes away and take out your wands. Here’s what we’re going to do.”

It was the basic match-to-pin exercise that Isabelle had started Harley and Hermione out on after they had returned home to New York. The two of them changed their matches, and then, because they were bored, made the matches line up at attention, march across the desk, and then turn themselves into 3D pyramids. 

Neither noticed that the class had stopped and everyone was watching the two of them play around with the matches.

McGonagall looked down at them and saw that they weren’t using their wands. No one else seemed to notice that, so she quickly dismissed the class to lunch.

“You two. My office. Right now.”

That seemed to break the trance that the two were in and both blushed with embarrassment. 

Five minutes later, the two were standing in front of the Deputy Headmistress’ desk, waiting. 

She began, since neither girl seemed inclined to want to say anything. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with the two of you. This morning, you two brushed me off, since you hadn’t had your coffee yet, and now this. Yes, you both completed the assignment flawlessly, but… then you start in on 4 th year animation charms, wandlessly. I can’t have you doing that in class!”

“Excuse me, professor, but why? We did the assignment, took notes, asked appropriate questions, and generally behaved ourselves. The fact that we were just playing around with something that my mother showed us over the summer shouldn’t be held against us.”

Minerva didn’t know what to say to that. It was true that the two girls had done exactly as Harley had said, and that they had, in fact, completed the assignment immediately, and to the level of detail that she had requested. It was also true that they had not been disruptive to the class and had asked appropriate questions, based on the notes they had been asked to take. 

Finally, Minerva said, “I don’t think you understand. Let me say it this way. You were doing 4 th year work  _ without a wand _ and making it look easy and casual. Not a  _ single person, besides you two _ can do that. I will have a riot on my hands if you two keep pushing the boundaries!”

“Professor? Do you know what a Magus is?”

“Yes, of course I do. It’s a witch or wizard who has the greatest power. On the Myrddin scale, it’s someone over 2000.”

“Well, Ragnok didn’t tell us about the scale, but he said that Hermione and I are Magi, and that they often come in pairs. He said things about our magical maturation and stuff that she and I didn’t really follow, but he said that we were going to have an interesting couple of years.”

Minerva sat back, rubbed her eyes, and then said, “I’m getting too old for this shit.”

“Ok. So, start from the beginning. You’re saying that the two of you met with the King of Gringotts sometime over the summer and that he said that the two of you are or are going to be Magi-level witches?”

Harley and Hermione nodded. 

“Do I dare ask  _ why _ you were meeting with the King of Gringotts?”

Hermione took Harley’s hand and then said, “It was stuff about our inheritances.”

Minerva had been told the “great secret” but there was a lot that she was sure she didn’t yet know. “Harley, here, is the Lady Ross of House Ross. All of the family magic came to her, as did the family money. I am Hermione Dagworth-Granger, of the House of Dagworth. I received the family magic as well and will re-build the house of Dagworth.”

Minerva looked at the two of them, goggled. Harley continued. “I am also Potter of Potter, though no one knows that. I received all of the Potter family magic and wear the ring. It’s the first time, ever, that a patrilineal as well as matrilineal house have settled in the same person. The Goblins don’t know what to make of it, but they’re very excited.”

Minerva sat back and shook her head. “I really don’t’ know what I’m going to do with the two of you. Clearly, I can’t keep you from doing what you want, since both of you are vastly more powerful that I am. All I can do is ask you to learn from me and be ask careful as you can. The kind of power that you two are wielding is frightening and could make for you both a lot of enemies.”

“We’re going to need extra tuition. Hermione’s already read the book you assigned and I’ll finish it in the next day or two. We’ve mastered all of the charms in the 1 st yr. charms book…”

“I get it. You’re bored already.”

“Except for potions. That will be good.”

“Oh… one thing. Watch out for Albus. He very definitely is not your friend. He can read your thoughts if he can meet your eyes. That’s called Legilimency. He uses it to find out what students are doing. There are ways of hiding your thoughts, but it takes a long time to learn and he can tell if you’re doing it. You might want to go into the muggle world and get contacts for your eyes that you can charm to repel Legilimency or we can go to Diagon Alley and see the Optometrist there. If you need help, I’ll be happy to do so. If there are others in your class who might need similar protection, pass along the word.”

The two nodded and then gathered their things and went to lunch. There was a very great deal to talk about.

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**Defense Against the Dark Arts – 1:30**

Lunch had not been the languid affair that Harley and Hermione had hoped. There was too much to talk about. Their next class was DADA – Defense against the Dark Arts. For first years, it was supposed to be an introduction to Class 1, 2, and 3 animals – things that could definitely hurt you if you came across them in the wild and didn’t know how to handle them. 

Professor Quirinius Quirrell stood by the door, shaking everyone’s hands as they walked in. Hermione and Harley were at the end of the line, taking their time and talking quietly. As he was wont to do, Quirinius welcomed Hermione. “Such a…a… pleasure, Ms. Granger!”

Harley knew better than to laugh at a person’s stutter. It was a major impediment to casting and Isabelle had drilled into her that it was ‘beyond the pale’ to make fun of someone’s disability.

Harley extended her hand, when it was her turn. “Good afternoon, professor.” 

The moment that their hands met… Quirinius screamed.

“MASTER! HELP ME!” 

Harley watched in morbid fascination as the professor who had just greeted her staggered once, twice, and then fell completely to dust right in front of her. There was a huge, black cloud that came up out of her and screamed as well. “I HATE YOU!”

The cloud dove at her head and Harley didn’t have time to move out of the way. It smashed into her, and through her. Harley screamed and the scar on her forehead, which she had gone to such great lengths to hide, burst open and a black tar oozed out of it and joined the black cloud. 

Hermione screamed as well, “GET A TEACHER, SOMEONE!”

Characters in portraits all along the hall fled; disappearing to god-knew-where. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Harley Janel Ross woke up a half-hour later in the infirmary. There was a loud conversation going on, but Harley couldn’t place the voices. All she knew was that her head throbbed and that Hermione was laying next to her, holding her hand. 

She tried to move, but Hermione rested next to her and said, “Shhhh. Love. Whatever attacked you, took something out of your head. Your scar. It’s just about gone.”

Harley was just cognizant enough to hear her girls’ words and be comforted by them. “You saved me, Hermione.”

Hermione met Harley’s almost-iridescent green eyes and saw how much her love believed what she was saying. It melted her heart and Hermione knew, in that instant, that she really did love Harley totally and completely.  _ What are my parents going to say when I bring Harley home next summer or the summer after and tell them that we’re engaged? _ Hermione thought. She knew that such things were legal in the magical world… since she had made a secret, but quite serious point of reading about them. Then she wondered if her parents already knew or at least suspected. 

The “loud conversation” at the end of the infirmary had grown louder, to the point where it was very easy to hear what was being said.

“I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU THINK. YOU’RE NOT THE REGISTERED MEDIC HERE. IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT, YOU CAN TAKE IT UP WITH THE SCHOOL’S BOARD AND WITH ST. MUNGO’S.”

Hermione lifted her head just enough to look down the length of the infirmary. She saw Poppy Pomfrey standing across from Albus Dumbledore, her wand out and obvious. Given that there was no one else in the infirmary, she wondered if Poppy wasn’t putting on a show, for Harley’s benefit, or at least so that her girl would know what was going on. 

Hermione was totally inexperienced in the ways of the world. That was true. But… she wasn’t stupid. She could read the man’s body-language fairly easily. He was angry and feeling denied. More, he was  _ afraid _ . Maybe that was because she had her wand out and he didn’t. Maybe it was because he knew he was at a disadvantage for some other reason. She didn’t know. It didn’t matter though. One way or the other, he was trying to get or do something that Poppy didn’t feel he had a right to do or get. Hermione was pretty sure that it had something to do with Harley’s scar and what had happened to their DADA professor. 

Hermione watched as the Headmaster stormed by and left the infirmary. Poppy was at Harley’s bedside not a moment later. 

“I assume you overheard that, Ms. Ross?”

Harley and Hermione looked at her and nodded. They were unsure what to say and they didn’t know just how much she already knew.

“Isabelle wrote to me, Ms. Ross. I know what I know and I have to say, I am astonished by it all. Apparently, the Deputy Headmistress has been a busy person.”

Harley nodded and squeezed Hermione’s hand.

“Now, I don’t know how Isabelle had done what she’s done, but I have to think that she’s  _ hidden _ some information in a way that can’t easily be circumvented.” Poppy leaned on the word ‘hidden’ in a way that made the two girls think that she knew exactly what Minerva and Isabelle had conspired to do, to protect Harley’s true identity. 

“My mother said that the Headmaster will never get around it, because of the way that she’s done things. She also told me that we can trust you.”

Poppy smiled gently. “Thank you. More, thank her. I have never met her, but Minerva speaks well of her.”

“Now, I want to tell you that I scanned you earlier, Ms. Ross”

“Harley, please”

“Ok, Harley. Anyway, I scanned you earlier and there is a small residue of a very, very black curse or something lingering where your scar was. Whatever was there, it was very, very bad.”

“When Professor Quirrell died, there was a black… ghost-like thing that came out of him. It screamed, “I hate you” and then it launched itself through Harley. Her scar ripped itself open and something black poured out if it and joined with the ghost-like thing.”

Poppy sat, astonished at what she had just heard. “Can you give me a memory of that?”

Hermione looked at her, sideways. “Yes, of course, but I don’t know how!”

Poppy smiled. “It’s easy. I’ll go get a vial that we can use to save the memory. Be right back.”

She got up and strode down the length of the infirmary, disappearing into a doorway somewhere in the back. A moment later, she reappeared and walked back to join them. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she said, “This is really easy. All I need you to do, Ms. Granger, is focus on the event itself and what you saw, just as clearly as you can. I will touch my wands’ tip to your forehead and draw the memory out.”

“Will I lose the memory?” She asked, hesitantly.

“Oh goodness, no. All I will get is a copy of the memory. I want to send it to someone whom I trust, to have her look at it.”

Hermione consented to the taking of the memory and sat very still. “Tell me when you’re clearly focused on the memory, Hermione.”

Hermione nodded. “Go ahead”.

Poppy leaned forward and very carefully touched the tip of her wand to Hermione’s forehead. Harley watched in amazement as a gossamer, silky strand appeared out of nowhere and spun around the tip of the wand, before Poppy slid the tip of her wand down into the vial that she was holding and shook the memory free. Very quickly, she slipped a cork into place and then magicked the stopper shut, so that couldn’t be opened casually. 

“That will do. Thank you. I will send this off to the right person, who – at least I hope – will do something about it.”

“What about the Headmaster?”

Poppy smiled. “Well, we can deal with that right now, too. Sit still for a moment, both of you, and I will seal the secret in you both, so that he will be unable to extract it, even if he could find it. I will use the  _ Obscurrare  _ Charm for this.”

Hermione bounced up and down and Harley grinned. She loved seeing Hermione excited about learning something new. It made her insides feel warm and she knew what that feeling meant. She loved Hermione and it was a real feeling, not a passing one.

“Will you use your own password?” Hermione asked.

“Oh. Well, yes. I will. It makes it less likely that you’ll accidentally trip over it and unlock the secret that you’ll be carrying.”

Hermione nodded her understanding. Harley made a note to ask her to explain the charm when they got out of the Infirmary and had a free moment.

“Go ahead then, I guess.”

Harley nodded. “I’m ready too.”

Poppy raised her wand and, in a moment, the secret of the black ghost-like thing that the two girls had seen was gone from their conscience minds. They blinked for a moment and then looked at Poppy. “Everything ok?” Hermione asked.

Poppy smiled. “Yes, Hermione. Everything appears to be just fine. Now, I need to see you both back here next week for your baseline physicals. I have the information that your mother sent along, Harley, and I have your records as well, Hermione. Your parents were most informative. Have you both been given the little witches’ talk?”

At that, Hermione and Harley burst into laughter and rolled their eyes. 

“Do I want to know?” Poppy asked, thinking that perhaps she knew exactly why the girls were laughing.

“No…. No, you don’t.” Harley said, laughing. Her head hurt with the remembered pain of her one and only hangover.

“Well then, you two are dismissed. Dinner is in a half-hour, so I expect you two need to get a move on to go make yourselves presentable and get changed.”

Harley got up out of the bed, hugged Poppy, and dragged Hermione out of the Infirmary and towards Gryffindor Tower. It had been a crazy day and she was  _ starved _ .

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	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day of classes and a teacher dies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pursuant to the Berne Convention Implementation Act of 1988 and the Digital Millennium Copyright Act of 1998, 17 U.S.C. §§ 512, 120 1–1 205, this work is copyrighted 2007 with all rights expressly reserved by its author unless explicitly granted. No portion may be reproduced in any fashion, or hosted on any website, without the express written and notarized permission of the author. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own rights to any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of Joanne K Rowling, © 2003, to whom I am deeply indebted. The Harry Potter series is property of Joanne K. Rowling, and Arthur A. Levine Books, Inc., a division of Scholastic Press, Inc., © 2003. I make no money from any of this. WHATEVER CREATIVE MATERIAL IS LEFT IS MINE.
> 
> CONTENT Disclaimer: This story may contain sexually graphic and explicit material and as such, it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now, as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. These stories are just that, stories, and do not promote or condone the activities described herein.

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**From chapter III…**

Poppy raised her wand and, in a moment, the secret of the black ghost-like thing that the two girls had seen was gone from their conscience minds. They blinked for a moment and then looked at Poppy. “Everything ok?” Hermione asked.

Poppy smiled. “Yes, Hermione. Everything appears to be just fine. Now, I need to see you both back here next week for your baseline physicals. I have the information that your mother sent along, Harley, and I have your records as well, Hermione. Your parents were most informative. Have you both been given the little witches’ talk?”

At that, Hermione and Harley burst into laughter and rolled their eyes. 

“Do I want to know?” Poppy asked, thinking that perhaps she knew exactly why the girls were laughing.

“No…. No, you don’t.” Harley said, laughing. Her head hurt with the remembered pain of her one and only hangover.

“Well then, you two are dismissed. Dinner is in a half-hour, so I expect you two need to get a move on to go make yourselves presentable and get changed.”

Harley got up out of the bed, hugged Poppy, and dragged Hermione out of the Infirmary and towards Gryffindor Tower. It had been a crazy day and she was  _ starved _ .

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**Dinner – the Great Hall – 6pm**

Gryffindor table was loud and animated when Harley and Hermione walked in, hand-in-hand. The noise didn’t abate, so the two felt comfortable enough to join their suite-mates at the wall-side of the table, towards the center of the Hall. Harley liked having wall to her back. It made her feel somewhat more secure that no one could sneak up on her or Hermione. 

Her security wasn’t to last though. She had just put her napkin on her lap and sorted out what she wanted to have for dinner when a voice from down the table, closer to where the teachers sat, said loudly, “Hey Ross, I hear you offed the DADA teacher today. Who’s next?”

Harley looked across at Hermione and rolled her eyes. She didn’t remember much of what had happened, but she knew that somehow, she had caused Quirinius Quirrell to fall to dust. Why it had happened, though, was a complete mystery to her and she really wasn’t interested in discussing it.

Looking down the table at the expectant eyes that were staring her way, Harley projected an illusion of a rat running among their plates. It was something she had practiced doing with her mother, as a distraction technique for exactly these kinds of moments. Anything to through off the attention of people she didn’t want to talk to. 

The illusion worked and there was a ruckus as students leapt at the illusory rat, trying to stab it. It provoked a great deal of laughter from the students along the other side of the table, who weren’t taken in by the illusion. The mayhem gave Hermione and Harley enough time to eat an undisturbed meal.

The effect was not lost on the Teacher’s table however and Severus Snape watched with amusement as the Gryffindors descended into a small-scare war with a creature that didn’t exist. 

The Headmaster, however, didn’t find the situation funny at all and stood up to try to put an end to it, when the illusion ended by itself and a cacophony sprang up from those who were mad that they had been taken in by an illusion. The rest of the Hall watched in great amusement as a number of boys walked out of the Hall in a huff, covered with food, and yelling about being sabotaged. 

No one saw either Harley or Hermione finish their meals and quietly slide out one of the side doors to the Hall. 

When they were half-way to Gryffindor Tower, Harley finally gave in and pulled Hermione into an empty classroom and closing the door tightly behind them.

“I can’t fucking believe that we go away with that!”

Hermione was giggling like a Loon. She had never been one for planning pranks, but retaliating? …  _ yup. _ She was all in for that. “OMG, sweetie, I can’t believe you did that!”

Harley held her close, so that their faces were just a couple of inches apart. “I love you, you know.”

“I love you too” Hermione whispered, before closing the gap between them and kissing her girl. 

When they finally broke apart, Harley looked at her and said, “You and me? All the way.”

“All the way love, you and me” Hermione responded, caressing Harley’s face with her hand before leaning in to kiss her again. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

The next morning, the two woke and dressed for class. It was History first, with the new professor, and then Herbology, with Professor Sprout, and then lunch. Right after lunch, it was flying, with their Head-of-House, Rolanda Hooch. That meant that they were wearing pants for the day. No way were they going to go flying wearing skirts! Bike-shorts be damned, it was too cold and they’d be too exposed wearing skirts. 

When they got to the Great Hall, it was close to 7:30 am and the first of the morning post-owls were arriving. Both Harley and Hermione wanted to get owls as their familiars, but they had not had the chance to do so when they were last in Diagon Alley. Making such a purchase wasn’t something, they had been told, that you should rush. 

Sitting near the same spots that they had occupied the previous evening, Harley and Hermione sat and enjoyed their coffee, along with the diced fruit, granola, and yogurt that were available for breakfast. Hermione knew that her parents would be  _ insanely _ jealous that she had to do no work at all to get a strong cup of coffee and breakfast served to her. They’d already been told about how to get to the kitchens where the School’s house-elves worked and Hermione was looking forward to visiting with them and getting to know what their lives were like. She had read amazing things about house-elves and wanted to see for herself if those things were true. She also wanted to have, and she knew it was selfish, a direct pipeline to coffee… and if that meant having to suborn the loyalty of one or more house-elves, well… so be it. Coffee is life. 

Harley, on the other hand, had taken a more pragmatic route. She had snagged an owl-order catalog while in Diagon Alley and since she knew, due to an excessively chatty Miranda Granger, that Hermione’s birthday was on the 19 th of September, she knew that she could kill two birds with one stone – get a righteous birthday gift for her girl  _ AND  _ get access to coffee at the same time. 

The only difficulty with owl-order was that Harley didn’t know how to pay for her order. She couldn’t send her Gringotts medallion and wasn’t sure if she should just bag up the right number of Galleons and shrink them? She didn’t know. The only three people who would know were busy. 

The problem ran through her head, even as she saw the post-owls starting to deliver the morning’s mail. Several students had, apparently, received the  _ Daily Prophet _ and were starting in on reading the front page. That was also true with some of the teachers at the Teacher’s table. 

There were immediate gasps as people read the above-the-fold headline, “ ** _DEFENSE TEACHER DIES AT HOGWARTS.”_ **

Hermione, seeing the headline,  _ accio’d _ a copy of the paper out from under the control of another firstie, a smarmy red-head named Ron. He didn’t seem too fussed about it, since he reached right around it and grabbed a cinnamon roll from one of the platters.

Hermione rolled the paper out and started reading the article, with Harley right at her side:

“ ** _DEFENSE TEACHER DIES AT HOGWARTS.”_ **

** _By Rita Skeeter_ **

**_Students were shocked yesterday afternoon when one of their new professors, Quirinius Quirrell, died at the hands of a first-year student. The circumstances of his death are mysterious though and the Headmaster isn’t talking. In fact, no one at Hogwarts is talking. Repeated efforts last evening to get an official comment from the school were rebuffed._**

** _The student in question appears to be a first-year student, but no one was willing to provide a name. You can be assured, dear reader, that we are making every effort to obtain the name or even to confirm with the DMLE that the student was responsible, as opposed to just proximal to the incident. There hasn’t been a death of a professor at Hogwarts since the loss of the Founders, more than 1,000 years ago! _ **

** _“I haven’t heard anything about this, but you can be assured that we will look into it immediately.” said a spokesman for the DMLE – London. _ **

** _When this reporter approached the Minister for Magic’s office for comment, I was rebuffed with a ‘No comment’. Either the Minister for Magic isn’t interested in the happenings at the Kingdom’s premier school of Magic or is completely out of the loop about the major goings-on in our society. Either way, there is a problem. There have been, of course, a fair number of student-deaths at the school. Since the 1600’s, the following students have died (partial list):_ **

  * ** **_**_Myrtle Elizabeth Warren – death by unknown cause_**_****
  * **_Antigone Dodge – Potions accident_**
  * **_James Potter*_**
  * **_Lilly Potter*_**
  * **_Hogwarts Champion 1792 - Arctinius Black – Cockatrice_**
  * **_Beauxbatons champion 1792 - Cockatrice_**
  * **_Durmstrang champion 1792 - Cockatrice_**
  * **_Galahad Hegpeth – Hogwarts champion – 1789 – Broom accident_**
  * **_Miravina _****_Poniatowski – Durmstrang champion – 1776 - death on Dueling platform_**
  * **_ Wilhelm Van _****_der Grosse - Durmstrang champion – 1773 – death by Basilisk_**

***Note – recent graduates of Hogwarts**

** _ There is, very sadly, an astonishingly long list of those who are thought to have committed suicide because of the academic pressure at Hogwarts since the late 1700’s. I will not publish that list, in consideration of the families involved. It is far, far longer than the list of those who have been killed due to ‘unfortunate circumstances’ or due to the Triwizard Tournament. Hogwarts is not, of course, alone in pushing its students for academic excellence, but it is the most prominent and every loss is deeply felt. _ **

** _I will follow up on the death of Quirinius Quirrell and will report back to you, my dear readers, just as soon as I have news. In the meantime, we have things to do, don’t we?_ **

Hermione sat back, after finishing the article, and wondered just who Rita Skeeter was and how she might have gotten her hands on the information so fast. She also wondered if this is what passed for journalism in the magical world. Rita’s article was all over the map and she wondered if Rita had ever really learned about English composition. She didn’t fault Rita for her statistics, which seemed well researched and well-sourced. No, what she thought was off was the fact that she opened her article talking about Quirrell’s death and abandoned the topic by the 3 rd sentence. Not that Hermione necessarily minded. Most readers would not remember that they started reading an article about a professor’s death and ended up reading about youth suicide. Anything that distracted attention away from Harley was good in Hermione’s book. 

She pushed the article to Harley, so that her girl could read it for herself. 

After several long minutes, Harley looked at her and said, quietly, “Think my mom should have a chat with this woman?”

Hermione thought about that and then said, “No. Better to keep your head down and not say anything… unless Skeeter somehow identifies you in the paper. Then you can get your mom. Maybe even talk to Ragnok and see what he says. He might know someone who can help. A magical lawyer or something.”

Harley nodded. “I wish I knew more. I feel really stupid at times.”

Hermione took her hand and said, softly, “Harley, we’re only 11.. no one is expecting us to know anything at all. I think we’re way ahead of the game. We know more magic than anyone else here who is our age. We can outfly anyone here and we’re better at protecting ourselves than anyone else here. What more do you want?”

Harley squeezed her hand and said, “You’re right, you know. I just worry. If something happened to you… I don’t know what I’d do, but it wouldn’t be pretty.”

Harley’s green eyes sucked her in, like they always did, and Hermione closed the distance to kiss her softly on the lips, before touching her forehead to Harley’s. “You and me, all the way.”

“All the way.”

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Ten minutes later, the two of them were on their way to History, with the new professor. They were looking forward to it, since it was going to be an entirely new class, with a new focus, and an interactive discussion. It would be a chance to ask questions and that was something that set both girls to bouncing with excitement. 

Dr.  David Blight was a middle-aged man, a graduate of the Ph.D program at the University of Wisconsin at Madison, and a squib. He had never expected to be called back into the magical world, for MCUSA or otherwise. The call from Hogwarts had been totally unexpected, though not totally unwelcome. It did have the perk of unlimited access to one of the oldest intact libraries in the entire world, with documents that went back more than four thousand years. 

As the students filed in, he noticed Harley and Hermione. It was rather impossible not to. The black-red hair was like an ocean beacon in the night and the other girl, who was just a little shorter, had cascading, curly hair that the very definition of feminine. Together, they made a striking pair. He could feel their power, which was definitely saying something, since he was a squib. 

When all the students were seated, he began.

“Good morning! My name is Dr. David Blight. I am a history professor from  Amherst College in Western Massachusetts, in the United States. I am a squib, which is why you will never see a wand. I’m here because your Deputy Headmistress thought it important that you be taught history by someone who is both living and has a current perspective on history and historical trends. If there’s a third reason, it’s because this job comes with the perk of unlimited access to the Hogwarts Library, which is older than the Vatican archives, and that’s saying something. Some of the books here in your library pre-date the library at Alexandretta. Not that I know the languages necessary to read them, but I’ve been promised translation help as needed and that was enough for me to come here for a year or two and teach all of you something about European history from the muggle perspective as well as some things about US history, since that’s been totally disregarded by your last professor, whom I was told was a ghost. I didn’t believe that until I got the chance to see him exorcised and sent to the next life. That was a singular experience, since I was raised in the protestant church, as a believer in God. To see a demonstration of the power of God and proof-positive of the afterlife… well, that was pretty powerful. I’m still working through how that’s going to affect the rest of my life, but I can assure you that it will.

Now, enough about me. Oh, well, one more thing. I have a Ph.D – that is to say, a Doctorate in Philosophy, with a singular focus on slavery. That’s why I’m here. I did my undergraduate studies at Michigan State University – where I focused on native American histories. I hope to teach you about the roll of slavery in European history and how that has impacted history here in the United Kingdom, etc. I will also talk about the enslavement of the Veela, the Goblins, and house-elves. Some of this I am just learning right now and will be struggling to keep ahead of you. In that sense, we’ll be learning together. Does anyone have any questions to this point?”

Seeing none, he continued. “What I’d like to do next is call out the roll and try to put names to faces. I’ve been told that I have a mix of Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors, and Slytherins here this morning and that all of you are the smartest of your years. I look forward to seeing what that means.

Ok, so pens and notebooks out. Let’s take the roll and then get on with things.”

There were 24 students in the class – about a third of the first-year students. “Granger, Hermione” he called out. 

“Yes, professor.”

“What do you prefer to be called?”

“Hermione is fine, sir. My title is the Lady Hermione Dagworth-Granger, of the House of Dagworth, but I never use it.”

David made a note in his log book about the title and put a star by it, reminding him to ask the Deputy Headmistress about it later.

When he got to Ross, he looked up. “Ross, Harley.”

“Right here, sir.” Harley called out.

“What do you like to be called?”

“Harley’s fine, sir. My title is the Lady Harley Janel Ross, of the House of Ross, but like Hermione, I don’t use it.”

“Ok. Is there anyone else who has a title that I ought to know about?”

Susan Bones put up her hand.

“Yes, Miss?”

“Bones, sir. I am the Lady-designate for the House of Bones. My regent is my aunt, Amelia Marie Bones, head of the DMLE”

“What do you prefer as a name?”

“Susy or Susan is fine. Like Hermione and Harley, I don’t use the title… unless I have to.”

David Blight looked around. “Ok, so it’s clear that there’s something I don’t know. What is it about these titles that’s important?”

Hermione looked at Susan and mouthed, ‘you do it’. 

Susan shrugged and then stood up. “Sir, it’s like this. Hermione over here, well, she’s the last of her house. She’s important because she inherited, I think, all of the family magic for her entire family line. It all resides in her now. That makes her very important, in British magical circles. I’ll bet anything that Hermione is already emancipated because of that. That gives her political as well as magical power. Harley – well, she’s the most important person in this room politically. She won’t say anything, but the House of Ross is the oldest house in the magical United Kingdom. The Ross’es were the progenitor family of what’s called the ‘Sacred Twenty-Eight’. They were the founders of the British Wizengamot or British magical congress. If she’s inherited the family magic, she’s the  _ most powerful _ person in this room magically. As for me? I am Bones of Bones. I am the last of the family. My aunt is my regent until I am 17 or if she dies somehow. My family is one of the Sacred Twenty-eight but not close to being the oldest. I will inherit the family magic when I come of age. The three of us, because of our standing in British magical society, have certain legal immunities that are not enjoyed by ‘lesser’ families.”

David Blight looked around and then sat back against his desk. It was a struggle to know what to say next. You didn’t often have to deal with such a situation. “Ok. So… what does all of that mean for you? Why are you even here, you three, if you have such power?”

Hermione raised her hand and he pointed to her. “Sir, we’re not a lot different than if you were teaching the son or daughter of the President of the Magical Congress in the US. The only real difference, if there is one, is that we’re more powerful, magically, than you might have been expecting. We’re still kids and we still need to learn what to do with what we’ve been given or inherited.”

David thought about that for a moment. “That was very well said, Hermione. Does anyone else have anything to say?”

Seeing no other hands, he said, “Ok. Let’s get started.”

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

It took until the next morning for the news of Harley’s status to well and truly hit the fan. The post-owls were burdened with multiple copies of  _ The Daily Prophet _ . This time though, Hermione didn’t even bother to be polite about it. She snagged the loathsome redhead’s copy, before he was even aware it was being delivered. She knew he was more interested in eating than he was in reading, so she relieved him of the burden of even having to make the choice. 

Rolling out the copy, Hermione immediately saw the headline, “ ** _ROSS HEIRESS FOUND AT HOGWARTS”. _ ** The sub-heading read,  ** _WIZENGAMOT UP IN ARMS. MEMBERS DEMAND ANSWERS._ **

** _By Rita Skeeter_ **

** _My dear readers, what you’ve read is true. The Ross Heiress has been found at Hogwarts. After years of a fruitless search, the last of the Ross family has turned up at Hogwarts and has taken her place among the first-year students in Gryffindor. The Lady Harley Janel Ross has claimed her place among the Gryffins. And the news keeps coming. According to multiple sources, the young heiress already has a love-interest! She has been seen in the exclusive company of a young Gryffin named Hermione Jane Granger, The Lady Dagworth-Granger. The two have even been seen kissing! What does this mean for these Ancient and Noble houses? The House of Ross is a known Matriarchy and permits the lady of the house to either birth or adopt the next generation. The House of Dagworth’s situation is unknown, since the last of that house lived more than four generations ago and there are no known (public) writings from the house on this topic. _ **

** _What does this mean for British magical society? These two love-birds control at least 16 seats in the Wizengamot and the House of Ross, as the primogenitor of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, has veto-power over certain types of legislation. _ **

** _It is highly unusual for an heiress this young to have found a love-interest, but we are all slaves to our magic at times. These two seem particularly devoted to each other though and one wonders what magic is at play between them. If they are as powerful as some have suggested, is it also possible that they have already found in each other a _ ** ** _compatible soul? _ **

** _I spoke with the lead Medic at St. Mungo’s about this situation and she said, “Young women develop faster than young men. They have to, since they have a great deal more to deal with biologically. If these two young women have become emotionally close, it’s likely that it’s nothing more than sympathetic need, based on the pressures of physical and magical maturation. It’s possible though, however unlikely, that they have found in each other a mutual magical match and will be together their whole lives, even to the point of marriage. Also, there is nothing to say that they can’t adopt.”_ **

** _When I went to the Wizengamot, to speak with the Supreme Mugwump, he wasn’t available, but that’s because he and the Headmaster of Hogwarts are one in the same and we have so far been refused answers to any of our questions. _ **

** _The leading member of the Conservative Coalition, Lord Lucius Malfoy, was more forthcoming in what he thought about the situation, “It is disturbing that such a prominent family is allowing its heir to act this way, but such is the corruption of the liberals that they permit this kind of thing. We will, of course, challenge the assumption of the title.”_ **

** _When I spoke with the leader of the liberal coalition, Dowager Longbottom, she said this, “I’m not surprised to hear such drivel from Malfoy. He’s always been an ass. As for the Conservatives challenging the assumption of the title, I say ‘good luck with that.’ They’re likely to get themselves killed for their foolishness.”_ **

** _I will try to speak with the Lady Ross, but given Hogwarts’ position on speaking with underage students, I don’t expect reach her.”_ **

Hermione sat back and thought about what she had just read. Pushing over to Harley, she wondered what they were going to have to do in order to protect themselves. Clearly, there were spies inside Hogwarts. The first thing to do was to find them and shut them up. The second was to make it painful for Rita to continue to write. The third was to try to anticipate what Malfoy, et al. might do to try to challenge Harley’s position. That might mean a conversation with Ragnok, to see what he had to say about the matter. 

When Harley had finished reading the article, Hermione said, “We’re going to have to contact your mother and get her a copy of this article. We also have to talk to Ragnok.”

Harley nodded. She wasn’t worried about Malfoy per se. She was, however, concerned about someone taking a run at her and hurting Hermione. She knew that she’s do extremely violent things to protect her girl. It was soon going to be time, she thought, to make it clear that she and Hermione were together and that it wasn’t casual.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

The rest of the day was a blur. Care of Magical Creatures was fun and interesting; History was engaging and far, far different than what it would have been listening to a ghost. Potions was demanding, but awesome, since they were really starting to learn ingredient-interactions and seeing some of them in action and flying was a blast, for both of them. Although Hermione had never been on a broom before, Harley showed her how to do it and do it right. Soon the two were whizzing around Quidditch field, ducking in and out of the rings, and just generally having a great time. Harley was a natural on a broom. She could do things that made Madame Hooch gasp in surprise, like an inward, 9-G inverted dive (where the rider holds onto the broom like a sloth and does an inverted dive towards the ground, only to flip on top of the broom at the bottom of the dive). Hermione almost swore at Harley when she was finished. 

“Damn you! You had me so scared! Don’t do that again!”

Hermione’s tears were real and Harley felt ashamed, in a way that she had never felt it before. All she could do was hold onto her girl and tell her how sorry she was. As they stood there, Harley caught, out of the corner of her eye, a Slytherin girl whom she didn’t know, taking notes. 

Harley whispered to Hermione, “There’s one of our spies, Hermione. A Slytherin girl. Black hair. Short. With a gold circlet in her hair. Think if I can distract her, you can sneak up on her and stun her?”

“Yes. Break out of my arms in 3… 2… 1… go.”

Harley did just that, walking in a line that took her near the girl but on enough of an angle that it made it look like Harley was heading towards to girls’ lockers. Hermione took another path, but one that kept the Slytherin in eye-sight. She slipped her wand into her hand and cast a very careful, multi-layered illusion that took Hermione out of the girl’s sight. The moment that it was done, Hermione was able to make a bee-line towards her and stun her with relative ease.

Harley circled back, the moment the deed was done, and helped Hermione drag the body back into the shadows, where they couldn’t be seen. 

“Now, love, let’s see what this skanky bitch knows. Take a look at her books, her pockets, etc. See what we can find.”

Hermione got to work and quickly found an interactive notebook – charmed as a set, so that whatever she wrote, showed up in the other. It was a slick piece of work. “Oh… I would love to strip this bitch and dump her body in the forest.”

Harley looked at her and agreed. “I know. But maybe… we can make her wish we had. See that necklace she’s wearing? Give it over. I’ll charm it so that she has nightmares every time she looks at us. It will scare the crap out of her and will be a different dream each time. She’ll forget about writing about us because she’ll be too scared to sit down and put quill to paper.”

“Do it. That’s awesome. Oh… and a triple-layered itch-hex in her knickers and one in her bottom. It will drive her mad.”

Harley grinned. Hermione was a caustic person to cross. She was more than a little vindictive. An itch-hex in the ass would drive her around the twist, especially if she applied it full-power, which she fully intended to do. They flipped the Slytherin girl over, pulled her knickers down, and applied the hex directly to her bottom. Then they did the same to her knickers. Then they re-dressed the girl. She was going to be  _ miserable _ by the time both hexes kicked in. On top of the nightmare curse, she was going to be absolutely sick. It would buy them at least a week, maybe even three, by the time the girl was able to rectify the situation.

To complete the job, Hermione wiped the girl’s memory of the last half-hour. It wasn’t, maybe, a perfect job, but it was enough, in combination with the other things that they had done, to cover their tracks. 

They dragged the girl back to the Girl’s quidditch locker and left her there. She’d never remember being there in the first-place and by the time she woke up, the anal itch-hex would be kicking in and she’d have other things to worry about. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Transfiguration was the last class of the day for Tuesday. It started at 4:30 and went until 6. Their assignment was the  _ Avifors Spell _ . It was to change something from inanimate into a bird. It wasn’t that hard, and both Harley and Hermione mastered it on first try. It was, as they both knew, a matter of visualization. If you knew how big the item to be transfigured was, in terms of weight, then you could figure out the right sized bird you had to aim for. So… if the object weighed 25 pounds, you were looking to turn it into a Turkey or a very large eagle. If the object was 15 pounds, you were looking at a large hawk… etc., etc., etc. 

Minerva McGonagall watched the two girls work silently, which was far different from the rest of the students in the class, some of whom had taken to almost yelling their spells to try to get the necessary focus to make it work. She knew that if the girls weren’t exactly prodigies, that they were at least years beyond the rest of the students and would need something more than the simple transfiguration work to keep them interested and happy and she was going to have to go and find assignments for the girls to work on that would allow them to actually test themselves. Otherwise they were going to continue to be bored and that was always a bad thing. She thought back to the trouble that James Potter had gotten into because he and Lily were so good that they were bored. 

She, of course, wasn’t the only teacher who was watching the pair. Rolanda Hooch had watched both girls during flying practice and had seen the insane, inverted 9-G loop that Harley had done. She was desperate to get a seeker for Gryffindor House and Harley looked to be the one to recruit. Hermione was also damn good and would make a smashing chaser. 

_I’m getting too old for this shit_, Minerva thought to herself. _But you started this, didn’t you? You wanted to get Harry Potter out from underneath Albus’ control. So, you did. Now you’re mad that the entire situation has spiraled into something you weren’t expecting._ _Stop being stupid and pissed and do the right thing. _

Minerva chastised herself. Albus had often said “That there will be a time when we must choose between what is easy and what is right **”** . Minerva wondered if this was that time. She had already connived to dispatch a ghost from the ranks of teachers at Hogwarts and she had de-fanged Severus Snape by giving him teaching assistants. More, she had caught Albus cheating the books by squirreling away funds that should have been used to pay salaries into his own private retirement account and connived to have those funds moved back into the general coffers of the school, for use to pay teacher salaries – thereby shoring up the school’s accounts and bringing the institution into the black. That had been a masterful bit of work along with the Goblins of Gringotts. Now she just had to find a way to teach two girls much more about transfiguration than the normal syllabus or teaching schedule would allow. 

She knew for a fact that Nymphadora was watching them with rapt fascination as they worked their way through the entire first-year potions book, in terms of rote knowledge. They had brewed only one potion so far, but it had been spot-on perfect. 

She didn’t want to think about what Filius was going to say about the girls. The had all but admitted that they knew the entire first-year syllabus (16 major charms plus their variations) and could do all of them. She suspected that they knew most all of the second-year charms as well, but she didn’t dare ask. She had no idea that Isabelle was planning on having the girls capable of doing all of the work up through fifth-year by time their second summer was over. 

So lost in her thoughts was she that she didn’t see the two girls who were the objects of her concern move into the rest of the class and start rectifying what their classmates were doing wrong. A whispered correction here, a touch of a hand there to re-position a wand there, a touch of a finger to the lips for someone else… and suddenly her classroom was a very different place. Three of the other students, out of the 24 present, were able to do the transfiguration immediately, and almost soundlessly. Three others had to practice it a couple of times and then they got it too. By the time the session was over, Minerva was goggled at the fact that all of the students had achieved the necessary transformations and had learned to do them soundlessly. It was astonishing! 

The bell rang, signaling the end-of-class, and the students packed up and left. Hermione and Harley were smiling at each other and getting ready to leave when Minerva called out to them, “Miss Granger? Miss Ross? That will be thirty points  _ a piece _ to Gryffindor, for your exemplary help in teaching transfiguration.”

The girls smiled at each other, high-five’d, and then left the classroom, hand-in-hand. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

That night, after dinner, with their homework done for at least the next week, Hermione and Harley happily retreated to Hermione’s bed. It was the one farther away from the door and the only bed in the room that was in mostly darkness at night. Hermione liked her bedroom dark and appreciated the privacy that it afforded. 

Laying side-by-side, and naked except for panties, the two held each other and talked. 

It had been a long day and the comfort of being together at night was their chance to re-charge and bond with each other. Hermione was still amazed and overwhelmed by the love she felt for and from Harley. The girl made her life complete. 

“I love you, Hermione.”

Hermione caressed her girlfriend’s face and looked at her in the darkness. Their kisses were needy at times, and other times, just sweet and soft. Hermione knew they’d do more, physically, in the next two years, but was happy in the moment, just being able to kiss. It was such an amazing way of expressing how she was feeling. She could feel her magic (she thought) welling up and wrapping around Harley and she could feel Harley’s doing the same. Not a single book that she had found had talked about it, but she got the feeling that there were such books, either in the library’s restricted section or at the bookstore in Diagon Alley. Maybe Isabelle had one? She’d have to ask. 

Hermione kissed Harley and then touched foreheads with her. “I love you too. You mean everything to me.”

Harley touched her face and said, “you keep that up and you’re going to make me cry.”

“Sorry love. It’s just that… you do mean everything to me. I just never imagined, after I first learned that I was a witch, that I’d find someone like you to share my life with.”

“I feel the same, love. I couldn’t imagine leaving my mother, and even when we were first in Diagon Alley, I felt lost. Then you came up to me… and we touched… and my world was suddenly very different. Now you’re my world.”

“You and me… all the way.”

“All the way, love.” 

With that, the two drifted off. They had no idea that their softly spoken words of love had touched their roommates or that there were silently spoken promises, all around the room, to protect these two young girls.

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**Early afternoon, House of Yaxley, Pike Lake, Potmore, UK – Friday, Sept. 6, 1991**

Lucius Malfoy was anything but subtle, Corban Yaxley thought, but Lucius had been the Dark Lord’s number three, after Bellatrix, and that meant that Corban had to at least humor the man. It disgusted him to have to grovel, but Lucius could buy and sell the Yaxley family without much thought and so Corban didn’t have much choice. 

“You saw the paper?” Lucius asked.

“How could I not? With their screaming headlines… hard to miss.”

“Just so. We have to rest back the Ross seat. She could stop our progress dead in its tracks, if she chose to do so, even if she appoints a proxy.”

“So, what is it that you want from me?” Corban asked, wondering if his speculation was even close to the mark.

“I want you to call her out in the Wizengamot, on behalf of your niece, Irina.”

“But Irina is only the step-granddaughter of Pomodora’s younger sister. That’s not a claim to the seat.”

“We don’t have a choice, Corban. That’s the only play we have. If we don’t do it, this new bitch could derail everything we’re trying to do.”

“And what if the Goblins say no? What then?”

“They won’t. I have a way to leverage the gold in my account so that we can practically buy out the Goblins in London.”

Corban’s eyes lit up at that. If Lucius thought he had a way around the enchantments on the gold in Gringotts’ Galleons, then there was a chance that that all of the Dark Lord’s followers could exploit it and get back some of the money that the Dark Lord plundered from them during the last war.

“I’ll do it, if you share the secret of this technique of yours.”

“Good. I thought you’d say that. Now, here’s what we can do…”

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**Approx. the same time, Friday, Sept. 6** **th** ** – Infirmary, Hogwarts**

Irina Yaxley was going mad. She was in agony and she hadn’t slept in three days. Between the nightmares and the burning itch in her ass, Irina was close to a nervous breakdown. 

Poppy Pomfrey had her undress and began her diagnostics. It was immediately obvious that the poor girl had scratched herself raw in an attempt to soothe the burning itch in her ass. Waving her wand over the poor girl, she realized that the girl wasn’t  _ physically _ ill. She was  _ magically _ ill. Someone had cursed her, hard. 

“Oh my. Someone, my dear, must truly hate you.”

The girl was in tears and couldn’t stay still. “Please! Fix me!” she screamed.

Poppy promptly stunned the girl, which gave her time to work her magic, so that she could lift the curse and cure the damage to the girl’s skin and internals (if there was any). 

Like all good physicians, she took a sample of the magical signature of the person who placed the curse and tutted when she realized that it wasn’t one she had on file. Whoever’s wand did this, it wasn’t someone Poppy knew. 

Fortunately, the itch-hex was one with which she was very familiar. It saw almost constant use during the school year as a low-level hex meant to annoy people and to retaliate for real or perceived crimes. This one though, was way, way over the top. It had been applied full-power, at point-blank range. It hadn’t been done as petty revenge, but to deliver a message. 

_ Who did you annoy, girl, that they would have done this to you? Someone really doesn’t like you and sent you a message.  _

After fixing the itch-hex, Poppy did the rest of her diagnostics, since she hadn’t had the chance to do it for this young woman yet. When she got to the girl’s chest, a black, ugly curse made itself known. Poppy used the tip of her wand to lift up a necklace – one that had obviously been cursed. She used a gloved hand to remove it and set it aside. 

She continued her diagnostic and found that the girl was otherwise healthy and maturing magically as she should.  _ Hmmm. Someone or several someones hate you, girl. You’ve stuck your nose into something that you ought not to have and someone has decided to send you a message… or distract you and put you off whatever you were doing. I wonder if I won’t see you dead or disfigured before the year is out. _

After waking the poor girl, Poppy went off to her office to make her notes about the case and its resolution. She put the chart away, with a reminder to speak with Minerva about it when she had the chance to do so. She had to know that an incident of this seriousness had happened and that there was a brewing problem in the school.  _ _

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Headmaster’s office – an hour later**

Pomona Sprout, Rolanda Hooch, Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Nymphadora Tonks, and David Blight were all gathered to talk about two things – Harley Ross and Hermione Granger – and what they were going to do to keep the two girls interested.

“I don’t think it’s about smarts” Blight said. “The girls are obviously bright, but maybe no more so than some of the others who are in my first-year class. Rather, I think this is about challenging them magically. That’s not something I can do. Yes, I can set them all sorts of research projects and made them do a crap-ton of writing, but at the end of the day, that’s all just academics and I don’t think we have to be concerned, for them, on that score.”

“I agree with David on this point” Minerva said. “The girls seem right at home in the library, and they write faster than any of their peers, because they’re using pens and muggle notebooks, as opposed to quills and parchment, which is only out of date by about 500 years.”

Filius Flitwick spoke up, which was unusual for him in staff meetings. “I’m not a fan of a lot of writing, but I understand the need for it in some circumstances. The thing that I will say is that both girls have a complete mastery of the 1 st year and probably the 2 nd year syllabus already. They can do everything wordlessly and I am sure, in some cases, wandlessly too. I’m going to have to get them into the 3 rd year material just to keep them from stopping attending my class in favor of self-directed study.”

“I know I don’t have a lot to contribute to this discussion” Rolanda Hooch said, “But I will make it plain that Harley Ross is the best flyer I’ve ever seen. I saw her do an inverted, 9-G loop the other day as if she had been doing it all her life. She has no fear whatsoever on a broom and could easily qualify for the national team right now. She’s that good. Hermione isn’t far behind, but she has just a bit of hesitancy that keeps her from being truly great as well.”

Pomona Sprout looked around and realized that she was mostly out of place. “I don’t really have a dog in this fight. These two girls are unexceptional in my class. They don’t seem to mind working in the dirt and they have quick, observant minds, but they certainly don’t have a passion for it. I’ve seen them working together, quickly yes. Efficiently, yes, but with no particular flair.”

Minerva nodded to Pomona. “Thank you, Pomona. We appreciate your candor. Nymphadora? Anything to say?”

“First – don’t call me Nymphadora. Second, Harley and Hermione are top of my class. They seem to have eidetic memories and they work fast, cleanly, carefully, and they pay attention when I say things. Their notebooks and notes are amazing. They intuit things that I didn’t learn until last year. Their first potion was spot-on perfect. Good enough to sell, according to Severus. I imagine they could probably brew anything in the syllabus and probably anything in the 2 nd or 3 rd year book as well.”

Minerva looked around. “Anyone have anything to add? What about you, Albus?”

Albus looked at the group. He couldn’t obliviate any of them and wiping the squib’s memory was pointless. He also couldn’t hide his concern. “I have my concerns. Having the Heir of Ross so close to a muggle-born girl, who is also the heiress of an important, wealthy magical family, is not going to play well with some factions in our society. You’ve all seen the recent headlines in the  _ Daily Prophet _ . Yet, I don’t have the ability to do anything about it. I’ve done what I could to deflect news inquiries and to shut down Rita Skeeter. I’ve also convinced, at least for the moment, the Minister for Magic to do the same to Rita. She’s looking for blood and trying to foment a conflict and it doesn’t pay anyone to feed into it. I’ve also made it absolutely clear that she is not welcome at the school or anywhere on the grounds. That’s however, as far as I can go.”

“You should have seen her behind bars years ago, Albus.”

“If wishes were Gryffins, Minerva…”

“Anyone else? Ok then. We leave the situation as it is right now – which is to say that we will all do our best, within the rails, to ramp up the teaching we give to these two and try to keep them engaged. We don’t want them bored. We’re agreed that will protect them from outside influences as much as possible and that Albus will keep a cork on the press as much as he’s able. Anything else? Does anyone have concerns about any other students? No? Good. We are dismissed then until next Friday evening at 4pm.”

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**Gryffindor 1** **st** ** year girls’ dorm – Friday night, several hours after dinner. **

“We have to write to your mother, love.” Hermione said as they sat back in bed. They had a writing deck between them and were trying to decide what to say and how to say it. They didn’t want to alarm her, but they also knew that they were going to need her to come back. They enclosed a copy of Rita Skeeter’s article and a copy of the letter that they proposed to send to King Ragnok, asking if it was (1) alright to contact him by themselves and (2) What they should say if he said yes to their request. The final version of the letter took them the better part of two hours to finish. When they were done, they folded it, sealed it in the envelope, and secured it using the magic that Isabelle had shown them. After they were finished, they got up and went to do their ablutions. On their way back from the private bathroom that the 1 st year girls shared, they were confronted by their suite-mates. Hermione looked at them, as she held hands with Harley. 

Fay Dunbar saw them holding hands and smiled, “We just wanted to let you two know that we have your backs. No one will mess with you if we have anything to say about it. You both helped us in Transfiguration and we owe you for that… but it’s more than that. We” and she indicated that she meant it wasn’t just her but all of the other girls, “think that you two deserve to be protected. We all heard you talking the other night and well… we think you’re damn lucky to have found each other and we don’t want to see anything happen to you.”

Hermione looked at them with tears in her eyes. “Thank you” she croaked out.

“Ditto”, Harley echoed. She was fighting tears too. “We mean it. Thank you. You didn’t have to say it, but we appreciate it.”

Fay looked at the two of them. She could practically see their magic swirling between the two of them. Even naked, Fay suspected that either Harley or Hermione could put the rest of them in the ground without batting an eye. And it wasn’t ‘David v. Goliath’, it was ‘Goliath v. an ant.” Harley’s magic was particularly palpable and Fay and the others wondered just what kind of bloodlines would create someone who was just so obviously orders of magnitude more powerful than they were. 

“Friends?” Harley asked?

“Friends” the girls all said at once.

Oblivious to her near-nakedness, Harley hugged each one of them and thanked them for being so good to Hermione. It was clear from the way that she said it that not only would she kick in the doors of Hell for Hermione, but that she’d make those in Hell regret the day that they had first heard her name.

** {}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**Monday, Sept. 16** **th** **, 1991 – The Great Hall of Hogwarts – 7:45 am.**

It had been an uneventful weekend for the two girls, even with their first Hogsmeade visit. They had quickly resolved the petty matter of 1 st and 2 nd year students not being allowed to go, by pointing out that they were both Heads of House and not restricted by the school’s rules on the matter, somewhat to the consternation of the Deputy Headmistress. When Harley had pointed out that as a 10-yr. old in upstate NY, she had been allowed a 35-mile range on her broom, Minerva deflated somewhat. It was hard to argue with someone who had already demonstrated competence and responsibility.

It had given Hermione a chance to re-fill her supply of sugar-quills, and to look for an owl to make her familiar. She hadn’t found one, but the looking was fun. For Harley, she wanted some new panties and wanted to lay in a supply of dark chocolate almond bars, since she was running low and it was her go-to treat when she was feeling sad. There was something about Honeydukes dark chocolate that made it superior to anything she had found in London. 

They had had one incident that could have turned ugly – when they had been confronted by a Slytherin 6 th year who thought that he’d push his weight around and threaten them with expulsion for being in Hogsmeade under age. Harley had calmly, but with a certain amount of menace, pointed out that she was the Lady Ross, of the House of Ross and that if he, the misbegotten son of a minor house, decided that he wanted trouble, she’d be happy to give it to him. And his whole family. Fortunately, the young man in question quickly decided that discretion was the better part of valor and removed himself from the situation, before Harley had the chance to bring the world down on him. 

It, of course, hadn’t gone unnoticed. Certain shopkeepers quickly became aware that the Lady of the oldest house in the Kingdom was in the village and made sure to keep an eye out for her. There was no sense in allowing some yahoo to make trouble for the young noble lady and her love. 

Hermione and Harley eventually ended up in the Three Broomsticks for lunch, where they met Rosmerta, the owner. She guided them to a booth, not to far away from where she tended bar, and made sure to wait on them herself. There was no sense in allowing the riff-raff to harass or annoy the two girls. Their patronage was worth far more than some mongrel wizard from off the streets. 

It was a good thing, too, Rosmerta decided, that she had decided to wait on the girls herself, since she was able to very neatly cut Rita Skeeter off from approaching them when the nasty reporter came into the pub. 

_ “But I have a right to talk to them!”  _ Skeeter had been heard to scream, as she was tossed out the door.

“ _ Not in my pub, you don’t!” _ Rosmerta had replied, just as heatedly. “ _ Now get out and stay out!” _

Hermione had grinned at that. It was satisfying to know that not everyone appreciated the despicable reporter’s work. 

When Rosmerta had come back to them, there was a satisfied smile on her face. “Sorry I took so long. Had to put out some trash.”

Harley got up and hugged her. “ _ Thank you.” _

“You’re welcome dearie. Now, what will you two have?”

They ended up having an amazing lunch of Fish & chips, with hot mulled ciders to wash it down. It was indulgent, but awesome, and both girls knew that they’d have to eat very lightly at dinner, lest they put on weight that they didn’t need. 

When they were finished, Harley put down 10 Sickles to pay for lunch. It was way over-paying for the lunch itself, which cost only 2 Sickles. Hermione was going to call her on it when Harley took Hermione’s hand and, after kissing her palm in a way that made Hermione shiver with pleasure, said, “Skeeter”. Hermione realized immediately what her girl was implying and desisted in her protestation. “Besides, love, it’s not like we don’t have a bit of money to burn, eh?”

Hermione hung her head. She knew that was true. She was sitting on a pile of 10 million Galleons, which would see her great grandchildren rich beyond their wildest dreams of avarice. When combined with Harley’s money… it was obscene. Hermione quietly vowed to herself to stop complaining when Harley wanted to spend a little money. 

It was hard, because her parents had always taught her the value of being frugal. She realized that frugal with a £250,000 income was different from frugal with 500,000  _ Galleon _ income. Her income was equivalent to £2,500,000 pounds sterling  _ per year.  _ With a 60/40 reinvestment on the interest, just as her parents had taught her, she’d be putting back 300,000 Galleons into her account per year and living on the other 200K Galleons. That would give her the equivalent of a million-pound-sterling income per year. She was pretty certain that she could live on that forever and never want for a single thing. 

On the way out the door, Rosmerta came up to them. “You two wait here for a moment. Let me take a look outside.”

Hermione nodded. She realized what Rosmerta was offering. She was taking a look out for Skeeter. When she came back, she said, “Bad news. She’s still out there and I can’t do anything about it. However, we have a back door… which leads to a path that cuts up through a corner of the forest and leads back to the Castle. It’s daylight and should be pretty safe. If you two hustle, you should be fine. You both have your wands?”

Harley and Hermione nodded. “Ok. Follow me. Let me let you out the back. It’s 10 yards to the forest’s edge and then you should be safely hidden.”

Rosmerta did exactly what she promised. Hermione grinned when she saw how close the forest actually was. Taking out her wand, she said to Rosmerta, “You didn’t see this, ok?”

Rosmerta kissed her forehead and said, “Didn’t see what?”, before turning and disappearing back into the restaurant. 

Hermione cast an intense illusion of the two of them being bushes and then anchored the illusion to the edge of the building, so that it seemed that they, as bushes, didn’t move. She didn’t drop the illusion until they were 50 meters into the woods and covered by enough foliage that they couldn’t be seen. It was ten minutes until they were back to the path that led to the gates of the castle and safety. 

In the meantime, Rita Skeeter fumed. She had camped out in front of the Three Broomsticks for more than an hour and waited, before storming in and confronting Rosmerta. It didn’t go well for her. You should not yell at someone who has adopted a young troll as a friend and work-mate  _ and whose’ friend  _ _ is _ _ the brute-squad. _

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**The great Hall of Hogwarts – Saturday, Sept. 20** **th** **, 1991 **

The problem with Murphy is that he knows where you live and he’s an equal-opportunity bastard. When Harley and Hermione walked in, there were copies of the weekend edition of the  _ Daily Prophet _ . Above the fold, there was a huge banner that read,  **“CONSERVATIVES CLAIM ROSS TITLE IN DOUBT. WILL CALL WIZENGAMOT** ” 

Hermione immediately grabbed the paper and began reading. As she did, Harley saw her face relax and took that as good news. “Here, read this” Hermione said as she pushed the paper towards Harley. 

The article was short and basically said that Lucius Malfoy was claiming that they had “uncovered” a previous claimant to the Ross title who was passed over by the Goblins and that they were going to call the Wizengamot into session to ‘deal with the travesty’. 

Both girls knew that such an inquiry would amount to naught, since Ragnok had already replied to their letter and assured them that the Horde would take a very dim view on  _ anyone _ who attempted to de-legitimize Harley’s claim. He had also assured them that both he and Isabelle would be there to defend her. 

The big concern was, of course, Harley’s birth-name. Isabelle was still the secret-keeper and so long as that stood, they thought that she was protected, but nothing is ever full-proof and they knew that Murphy was unkind to those who got cocky. 

They weren’t, of course, the only ones concerned about the situation. Minerva McGonagall was watching as well and she too had been in touch with Isabelle. She had too much invested in the situation to have it spiral out of control because of some dark bastard’s greed. 

What was interesting, and bore watching, was Draco Malfoy. He had been strangely silent regarding Hermione and Harley. She had had enough run-ins with Lucius to think that a bad apple wouldn’t fall far from the parent tree. However, Draco had been quiet and it was interesting, if not a relief. Harley and Hermione had the power to make an ink-blot out of him if they chose and word  _ was _ starting to get around. It’s hard to keep kids from talking, especially if they see something that impresses them. Draco would have been one to insult the girls about their parentage, but that’s kind of hard to do if you don’t know who their parents are. It’s also hard when the rules are screwy. Hermione’s inheritance of the magic of the House of Dagworth  _ automatically _ made her a “pureblood”, even though her parents are non-magical. As for Harley – no one, save for five people, knew Isabelle Ross, and therefore, there hadn’t been any speculation at all about her “worthiness”, save for the fact that she  _ had _ to be a pureblood, because the Rosses were the first family of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Maybe that was what was giving the girls a pass? Minerva didn’t know. Further, she had heard nothing from the house-elf network about students complaining about the pair. She had explained to the Hogwarts house-elves that “bad talk” about the two girls could lead to trouble and that the elves were to alert her if they thought that someone was saying something that could lead to or create trouble for Harley and Hermione. She had had to go to some length to explain to the elves what “bad talk” meant and what, specifically, to listen out for, but once they were clear on the idea, they were agreeable and went about their daily work. It was a layer of protecting that made it possible for Minerva to be in more than one place at a time, after a fashion, and to keep an ear out for mischief – which was a very useful thing as deputy headmistress. 

Minerva didn’t know, because she was no longer the head-of-house for Gryffindor, that it had been decided that Gryffs protect their own and that there was be  _ no _ talk about the two girls and that their relationship would be considered out-of-bounds for all boys. This message was expressed to those in Ravenclaw and in Hufflepuff, and reinforced by the Head Boy and Head Girl, from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, respectively.

Even the Castle itself seemed to agree. The extra bed in the 1 st -year girl’s dorm in Gryffindor was gone and in its place were big, comfy chairs build for two. The Girls’ private bathroom had an extra sink, so that each of them could brush her teeth and do her make-up in the morning without having to fight over space in the bathroom. And, most prized of all, there was an extra shower-stall as well as toilet in the bathroom, so that no one had to wait.

Not everything was roses though. Rita Skeeter was on the warpath, it seemed, because of Rosmerta’s outright ban on her in the  _ Three Broomsticks _ and the fact that Harley and Hermione had ducked her so successfully. 

The owl-mail had turned nasty too, based on Rita’s efforts. More than a few of the pieces of mail had been booby-trapped, which required the timely intervention of Hogwarts’ house-elves. Some had even sent cursed mail to the Headmaster, which was stupid, since he had the power to do something about it. One of those things was Fawkes, his phoenix. There was no one Fawkes could not find, and you did not want him to drop an angry headmaster into the middle of your life. No one knew what happened to the people who sent the Headmaster cursed mail, but it was known pretty widely that they got a chance to do it only once.

The good news though was that the Goblins of Gringotts were beside themselves with joy over the re-activation of the Potter, Ross, and Dagworth accounts. Things were happening financially that had kicked profits up significantly and Goblins loved the smell of profit. The Goblins had started selling gold – lots of it – and were buying platinum. No one knew why, but the two metals were priced similarly. Hermione had given the Goblins to do whatever they thought best with the majority of her funds – some 9.5 Million Galleons. Harley had done the same, but with significantly more gold, some 335 million Galleons. It was a crap-shoot, but both girls were confident in Ragnok and in their joint investment Goblin, Ear-Chewer. It would turn out to be one of the best things they’d ever do. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Monday, Sept. 30** **th** **, 1991 – 7am – Great Hall, Hogwarts**

It was a non-flying day, so both Hermione and Harley were wearing traditional school skirts and jumpers, along with their Gryffindor ties. Neither liked wearing the ties, but it was part of the 1 st year outfit and if they were going to fit in and conform to school expectations, it’s what they knew they had to do. 

As usual, they sat side by side along the right-hand wall, with their backs to the wall. Across from them were their suite-mates. It had become their tradition to eat breakfast and dinner together and mix during lunch, so that they got to know more people in the school. It was working out well, as far as Harley could tell. She felt slightly less paranoid about Hermione’s safety than she did, though she still kept a watchful eye out all the time for anyone who even took out a wand near Hermione. The thought of killing someone to protect Hermione didn’t bother her, though she supposed that it should.  _ Bother me a lot less to kill someone than to lose Hermione. Do unto others as they would do unto you… only do it first. Hmmm. That has applicability both for positive and for negative. I wonder if mom really understands that.  _

Harley sat back with her coffee – a genuinely enormous carafe of 28 oz. With milk, it was close to 32 oz. It would travel with her through her first three classes. Hermione was doing the same, but she was reading the morning’s paper, as well as sorting through their mail. 

Hermione was sporting a new set of earrings – a gift for her 12 th birthday – that Harley had appropriated from the Potter vault. They were 1ct. perfect white diamonds set in Platinum. She also had a new (old) copy of  _ Hogwarts, A History _ . It was an authentic, 2 nd edition copy, dating to ~1100 A.D. Where Harley had gotten it, she didn’t know, but it was worth an unspeakable amount. It completely re-wrote the “known” history of the school and she couldn’t wait to show it to their history teacher, David Blight. She hoped to make a copy and get it re-bound and sold through  _ Flourish and Blotts _ . It was a very different take, as far as she could tell, on the relationship between Salazar Slytherin and the rest of the Founders. It suggested that  _ Salazar _ was the open-minded one and the rest were the ones who were fighting against admitting “mun-born” students. The fight, as Hermione had relayed to her, was over the family magics that the other three were worried were going to go extinct, if “mun-born” students were admitted. It was perverse. The society needed “mun-born” students to keep the genetic diversity necessary to keep the society healthy and yet, the other three founders were right after a fashion, that admitting them would eventually destroy family magics. Those family magics had, in fact, mostly been bred out over the intervening millennium – or just forgotten because access to the family grimoires was so restricted.

Hermione had been so excited by the gifts that she cried, and then tackled Harley and kissed her to within an inch of her life. The rest of the Gryffindor girls had gotten together to buy Hermione sets of silk underthings, in Acromantula silk, in various colors. Harley wondered whether that was a gift for Hermione or  _ her.  _ The silk underthings were so sexy and soft as to send Harley around the twist. 

The Gryffindor boys had taken up a collection to buy for Hermione a heavy blood-red and gold wool cloak, bespelled for comfort, warmth, water resistance, and light weight. Hermione loved it, though she thought it made her look somewhat like Little Red Riding-Hood. 

The gift that was truly unexpected was a detailed, complete re-creation of the genealogical chart of the Dagworth-Granger family, taken from  _ the book _ at Gringotts. It had been delivered by Gringotts Eagle, and brought right to her, so that she had to present her medallion, signifying receipt of the gift. The gift proved her lineage and her right to the family magic. It was also an uncontestable documentation of her right to the title of Lady Dagworth. 

With it had come a note that said, “May your enemies die in poverty, screaming your name in rage.” It was signed by Ragnok and authenticated by the magical seal of Gringotts. 

Hermione, in reply, because she had been advised to do so, found a 676 yr. old Gorō Nyūdō Masamune Dai-Katana. He was one of the greatest sword-makers of all time in Japan. She bought it and had it sent to Ragnok with a note that said, “May your wealth be great mountains of gold and may your enemies die in bitterest pain and anguish. Your friendship is of untold value.”

Hermione would not know for a while how prescient her gift to Ragnok would end up being, but like all gifts, timing is everything.

At the end of breakfast, just before they were to go off to Potions, which was first thing, a large, tawny eagle flew in and dropped a letter, trimmed in gold, on her lap. 

Hermione looked at it and showed it to Harley. Harley shook her head and then said, “Ok. Here we go. Got to fire-call mom and let her know that it’s arrived.”

Hermione nodded. There was nothing that they could do about it in the moment anyway. Potions class was first and they were going to be brewing some interesting things, which required their full attention. Hermione took the letter and stuffed it into their shared bag. They’d deal with it at lunch. 

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	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harley is challenged in the Wizengamot and bends a few rules.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pursuant to the Berne Convention Implementation Act of 1988 and the Digital Millennium Copyright Act of 1998, 17 U.S.C. §§ 512, 120 1–1 205, this work is copyrighted 2007 with all rights expressly reserved by its author unless explicitly granted. No portion may be reproduced in any fashion, or hosted on any website, without the express written and notarized permission of the author. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own rights to any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of Joanne K Rowling, © 2003, to whom I am deeply indebted. The Harry Potter series is property of Joanne K. Rowling, and Arthur A. Levine Books, Inc., a division of Scholastic Press, Inc., © 2003. I make no money from any of this. WHATEVER CREATIVE MATERIAL IS LEFT IS MINE.
> 
> CONTENT Disclaimer: This story may contain sexually graphic and explicit material and as such, it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now, as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. These stories are just that, stories, and do not promote or condone the activities described herein.

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From Chapter IV….

Hermione would not know for a while how prescient her gift to Ragnok would end up being, but like all gifts, timing is everything.

At the end of breakfast, just before they were to go off to Potions, which was the first thing, a large, tawny eagle flew in and dropped a letter, trimmed in gold, on her lap. 

Hermione looked at it and showed it to Harley. Harley shook her head and then said, “Ok. Here we go. Got to fire-call mom and let her know that it’s arrived.”

Hermione nodded. There was nothing that they could do about it in the moment anyway. Potions class was first and they were going to be brewing some interesting things, which required their full attention. Hermione took the letter and stuffed it into their shared bag. They’d deal with it at lunch. 

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**Just after lunch – Minerva McGonagall’s office. Monday, Sept. 30** **th** **, 1991**

Minerva looked up after the preemptory knock on her door. She had expected their presence, but not this quickly. Hermione took the letter that Harley had received from the joint bag they had taken to carrying and put on the Deputy Headmistress’ desk. 

“Bad?”

“Every bit what we had expected, though the upside is that they don’t expect Hermione’s presence nor my mother’s. I’ve enlisted Ted Tonks as our Solicitor, on Nymphadora’s advice. Lord Ragnok sent that he’s sending someone as well. I don’t know if my mother is bringing anyone, but as she’s not the high witch of her coven, it’s possible that she will bring the High Witch of the Oak Circle and it’s not out of the realm possibility that MCUSA would send someone, though I think it’s unlikely.”

“We’re going to need the 7 th off, obviously. We’ll also need to get down to Rosmerta’s, so that we can take the floo from there.”

Minerva looked at her. “Nonsense. We’ll floo from here.”

“The session has been called for 10AM, but I don’t trust them not to move it up, just to screw us. I’d say we need to be there for 7:45 AM.”

Minerva thought about that and then said, “Agreed. We’ll meet her at 7:40 and we’ll floo to the central atrium. That will give us time to clear security and get down to the Hall of the Wizengamot.”

“You’ll need your formal robes, with your house insignia on them. I’d say 4” platform heels for you, Hermione, and 2” platform ones for you, Harley. You’ll both need to carry an Athame. Hermione, I don’t think there will be one entailed to you, so I suggest that you, Harley, give her one as a courting-gift. It should be Mithril or Titanium.”

“I have my mother’s. She gave it to me on my 11 th birthday. It’s been used for hundreds of years and it’s steeped in Ross blood. It’s still guiding me pretty heavily. It’s going to take years before I know the ways of it enough so that it doesn’t feel like it needs to beat up on me every time I’m in a coven circle or have cast my own personal circle.”

“But you need to find one for Hermione. I would suggest that you send a letter to Ragnok and tell him that you need to meet with him no later than Thursday in order to get access to all of your vaults. You’ve got to get that Athame for Hermione. It will show everyone that you are deadly serious about the relationship and you have the wealth to get her something rare and powerful.”

Harley nodded at that. She certainly did have the power to get Hermione basically anything she wanted, and if it had to be a rare and powerful Athame, then so be it. She also had the Potter vault and suspected that Lily Potter’s Athame was there. Whether Hermione would be able to bond with it was another matter entirely.

“I will excuse you both for tomorrow afternoon, after 6pm. So that you can get to the village and get fitted for your formal robes. I will also send Nymphadora with you, so that you have ‘supervision’. She will be happy to do it, I think. If she can’t, I will send Rolanda Hooch. Also, I will schedule several hours between now and Saturday for you two to work on magical fighting. Not dueling but  _ fighting _ . I dread to think what you might encounter, Harley, but if you are challenged for your inheritance, you will have to show that you have the confidence to take on any comer. You will also need to agree on who would be your second.”

“Nymphadora. Or My mother. They’d not expect either and I trust both of them.”

“Very well. I know that your mother will say yes. We will have to see if Nymphadora wants that responsibility. In the meantime, go get that letter written and sent to Lord Ragnok, before you go to class. That can’t afford to be delayed.”

The girls nodded and withdrew, leaving Minerva to think about the situation. It was ugly. Obviously, someone had paid off someone else to instigate a challenge to Harley. It wasn’t going to work and Minerva knew that, but the question was how many lives it would cost before it was all said and done. She feared that no one knew that number and that it would be high. She also feared the possibility of someone threatening Hermione, in order to get to Harley, and paying a terrible price for that mistake. She suspected that an enraged Harley would turn the Wizengamot into a bloodbath – because the girl had just that much power, according to Poppy. 

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**Thursday, October 3, 1991 – Great Hall – 6pm**

The students were sedate for a Thursday evening. Minerva looked out at the four tables and saw that the students were _ , _ for the most part, sitting by house, there was some significant mingling going on. The 1 st years, especially, were mixed up. Well, that was to say that Hermione and Harley were the center of a mix of girls from all four houses, who were crowded around them, watching avidly. Well, that wasn’t exactly right. Harley and Hermione took out their wands and indicated that all of the young girls present should too. Then Harley made a motion with her wand. It wasn’t one that Minerva recognized. 

Then she saw something that shocked her right down to her core. She held up a Galleon and let everyone look at it. She even had it passed around. When it was eventually handed back, Harley tossed it up in the air and somehow made it float, so that it could be seen by everyone. Then she put her wand down and really, that’s when the show began. Even the 5 th , 6 th , and 7 th -years wanted to see what was going on, so they jumped up and walked over to watch. 

Hermione took over and did something with her wand that Minerva couldn’t follow. However, it became obvious what she was doing. She was  _ changing the shape of the Galleon. _ No, that couldn’t be right. That wasn’t possible according to Gamp’s third law of transfiguration:  _ precious metals or gems cannot be transfigured! _ But she was and everyone was watching with rapt attention.

Finally, she couldn’t help herself. She got up and went over to listen. Hermione was just starting in on a repletion, “Ok. So, for those of you who missed it, Gamp’s third law says that you can’t transfigure precious metals or gems. Well, the Muggles do it all the time. They call it “Fungibility”. Here’s what they do. First, they heat it up” and Hermione applied an intense heat charm to the gold, which everyone could see and feel, “and then, they hit it or push it into a mold.” Hermione conjured two big square blocks with half-molds on the inside, which everyone at the tables could also see. Those also floated in mid-air, “And then they smack it together”. She did so, banishing the two blocks together, hard. “Et voilà, a transfigured piece of Gold.” Hermione’s was a gold cross, which she handed to Lavender with a smile. 

“Now watch the process, with the superfluous pieces and steps removed” and Harley did so, in one fell swoop, a Galleon she tossed up into the air, transfigured itself into a Raven. And stayed like that. When it fell to the table, everyone watched to see if it would revert. It didn’t. Harley picked it up and tossed it to the Head-Girl. “Here, for your next shopping excursion. See if they’ll accept it. Otherwise, keep it.”

Hermione explained. “What Harley’s mother discovered was that everything we’ve been told about the Third law is wrong. Everything can be re-shaped into something else. It can even be animated, but it has to be transfigured first. It’s something about a magical inertia. She’s working out trying to understand that part, but the bottom line is that once you heat an object, you can make it into anything else. The heat somehow breaks the transfiguration lock. Don’t know why, but it does. Now, the muggles have known this for like.. eons, but they were doing something we  _ thought _ was different from transfiguration. It’s not. Now that we know, a whole bunch of things can be done that weren’t attempted before.”

Minerva struggled to pick her jaw up off the ground. She really didn’t even know what to say. Finally, she said, “That will be an O for you and Hermione for the year, Ms. Ross. Please do me the kind favor of not seeking out anything else that will strain my heart? I do not know how many more surprises I can take.”

With that, she walked away, leaving a cheering, clapping group of watchers. There was quiet commentary among the 7 th -years who’d be sitting for their NEWTS that their examiners were in for a surprise and wasn’t it going to be fun to see some of them have coronaries when they laid that particular transfiguration on them. 

Harley and Hermione smiled and shared hugs with all the girls who stayed to talk. Harley and Hermione knew that while Minerva was shocked, that Lord Ragnok was in for one as well and wasn’t that going to be fun!

In the meantime, however, they had to prepare to leave for Gringotts. Once dinner was finished, the two went back to their dorm-room and changed into appropriate clothes to visit Lord Ragnok.

Twenty-five minutes later, they appeared in Minerva’s office. “We’re ready to go, Professor.”

She nodded and threw floo powder into the fireplace. It lit with green fire and she said, “Off you go. I will expect you back here in two hours, or else a floo call telling me you’re delayed.”

The girls nodded and one at a time, stepped into the fire and called out, “Lord Ragnok’s office”

When the fire closed down, Minerva went back to her desk and took out a dram of Scotland’s finest. She knew she’d have to be careful or she’d be a souse before the year was out. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**6:45 pm – Lord Ragnok’s office, Gringotts-London, UK**

Harley and Hermione stepped out of the floo at Ragnok’s office and immediately took a knee in front of the Lord of Gringotts-London. As etiquette required, they waited silently until they were bidden to rise. Ragnok saw them and was quietly pleased that the girls were both so accepting of proper etiquette and so respectful of his position. They didn’t question it or make a fuss. They just  _ accepted _ . Harley, in particular, was so much like her adoptive mother. He got the feeling that she would happily do violence in his defense. It was so different than dealing with the Ministry! Even Isabelle had taken a while to come around to the same attitude. But, that was understandable, given how she had been raised. Isabelle’s mother had been a complete tyrant and irascible to boot. 

“Rise girls. Rise and be welcome. Your dignity and respect speak well of you both.”

“My lord, thank you. For myself, for my mother, and for my entire family, thank you.”

“Thank you, my lord” Hermione said. “Being here… I feel honored and deeply grateful.”

Ragnok looked at them. They weren’t much taller than he, but they stood proudly and unashamed of their relationship, which appeared to be in full flower now, if their intertwined hands were any indication.

Hermione looked up and smiled. She saw the Dai-Katana which she had sent as a gift, mounted on the wall above Ragnok’s desk.

“You, lass, have the touch. You could not have known how much your gift would touch me. It is truly a warrior’s weapon.”

“I’m glad you find it pleasing, my Lord. I hope that it speaks of the respect that I hold for you.”

“In ways that only a Goblin would understand, Hermione. So, please set your heart at ease. You’ve made an impression.”

Hermione nodded and then squeezed Harley’s hand. She was so glad that she had let go of the know-it all, smart-ass girl that she once was. She trusted Harley – her opinions, her magic, and her view of the world - and that was also new to her. She had never expected to have a girlfriend, raised as she was in a heterosexual household, but it felt so right and so good that now she couldn’t imagine anything else. 

“Now, I know why you’ve come. Your vaults are ready to receive you, Harley. Butt-sniffer and Snot-rag will take you there. When you are finished, tell them and they will bring you back here.”

The two girls nodded and quietly thanked him. Then it was time to go. They had a long way to go to get down to the bottom. Hers’ was number two. Number one belonged to Myrddin Emrys, who was known as Merlin. It had never been opened since Merlin’s departure from the world. Three, Four, Five, and Six belonged to The Four: the True King, who would be the descendent of King Arthur, Galahad, Lancelot, and Percival respectively. Number Seven belonged to Gwenevire. It also remained unopened, though the Goblins of Gringotts maintained hope. 

When they got to Harley’s main vault, Hermione was more than a little taken aback. It was a huge stone door; maybe 12’ high and 10’ across. It was black stone that looked, to Hermione’s eye, like Basalt. She figured the door weighed maybe… 24 tons. Maybe 28. Nothing short of a nuclear weapon at close range would do anything to it. She couldn’t even see the hinges for the door. They seemed to be built into the batholith itself.  _ How did people more than 1000 years ago have the ability to build this? How would you carve out something like this?  _ Hermione didn’t know, but whatever they did, it was amazing.

Approaching the door, Harley lifted her hand and placed it where there was a hand-shaped indent. “I Harley Janel Ross, once born Harold Harry James Potter, claim this vault, for myself, and for all Ross family to come. Judge me that I may enter.”

The vault lit up, as a fey light surrounded Harley and then it stopped. Clanking could be heard, as locks withdrew. The door began to open. It was at the moment that the door was fully open that Hermione almost passed out. It was massive. Easily twenty-five feet high, thirty feet wide, and 300 feet long.  _ I got the feeling that Harley was wealthy, but this is ridiculous. _

Harley quietly walked in, holding her wand high, with a bright light showing from it. With one sweep, Harley silently summoned all of the Athames that were present. There were more than two dozen of them. Some were old… and some were  _ really _ old. Once she had gathered her senses, Hermione walked over to where Harley stood. “Mom said, to have you see how they feel. Touch each one. Like your wand, you’ll know the right one when you touch it.”

Several were really pretty but felt dull and lifeless when she picked them up. A couple of the gold ones actually hated her and couldn’t get out of her hand fast enough. A couple felt warm but uninteresting, as if they didn’t like her magic, but would tolerate her touch. When she was down to the last six, she reached for one that looked very, very old. It was wrapped in leather, or what appeared to be leather. She picked it up and drew it out. It was black… really, really, really black. Blacker than anything she had ever seen. There was a huge, gorgeous blue sapphire at the center of the cross-guard. The Athame felt  _ amazing _ in her hand. 

The note with it, written in old English, said that it was fey-elf forged, and that it was made from star-stone. What kind of stone, no one knew. Hermione tested the edge and found it razor sharp. Unlike the rest of the Athame that were present, this one was double-edged and looked every part of a killing weapon. 10” long, it was perfectly balanced and felt like it would happily kill anyone who opposed her. 

“This one, love. It… it feels like your magic, only different. It would serve you, I think, but it loves me.”

“You know what to do love. You’ve got to bleed for it, so that it knows you and your magic.”

Hermione understood. She took the Athame and drew it across her palm, without hesitancy. Blood sprang from her skin immediately and even though it stung, she wiped the entire Athame in it, so that it would be forever hers. She watched in amazement as her blood literally sank into the metal, as if drawn by a sponge. She pushed her magic it and it sparked as her magic ran up and down the length. Harley watched the show with fascination. She loved seeing Hermione do magic. No… she loved watching Hermione do  _ anything _ . She loved Hermione. Period. 

“I love you, Hermione.” Harley said quietly. 

Hermione put the Athame back into its leather wrap and shoved the whole blade into her waistband before grabbing Harley and pulling her into her arms. “I love you. More than anything. I can’t believe how much has changed since July. I’ve changed. I know I have. You’ve made me a better person already.”

Harley gently clutched her face and kissed her. They were alone, so she took one hand and reached down Hermione’s back, to her bottom, and squeezed it as she pulled her close. 

Hermione moaned into Harley’s mouth. She had never had her bottom touched the way Harley was doing and it was indescribably delicious. She knew she wasn’t ready for more, but for the moment, being touched that way was wonderful. It made her feel  _ so _ good!

Breaking away for a moment, Hermione looked at Harley and said, “If we don’t stop, we’re going to end up naked… and a part of me wants that so badly, but I’m so not ready for it yet.”

Harley nodded. She knew how close she was to stripping Hermione and doing what she could to please her. She also knew that neither one of them was nearly ready for that. She could feel her magic throbbing though and she knew what that meant. She was  _ so  _ close to her first magical maturation – and it was going to be a doosey when it happened. Isabelle had warned her. Repeatedly. She knew the signs – the things to watch for – that would tell her that it was imminent. She’d be lucky to get to the end of October before it hit. 

“Let’s get the other thing that we came for and get out of here.” Hermione nodded. 

“Do you know what it looks like?”

“Yea, more or less. It’s going to be in a locked chest. With the house crest. If we find that, we find the Grimoire.”

The two separated and looked all through the vault. Finally, Hermione called out, “It’s over here!”

Harley took a moment to navigate around all of the other chests, bureaus, piles of gold, silver, etc. that were between her and Hermione. Once she got there though, she saw that Hermione was right. It was a steel-bound chest (which was unusual in itself, since steel was so hard to make in 1000 A.D that it was super-rare) with the house crest. There was no obvious lock, but Harley could tell that there were blood wards soaked into every inch of it. Taking out her own Athame, she cut her palm and placed it on the top of the chest. “I, Harley Janel Ross, Daughter of Isabelle Marie Ross, claim the Grimoire of House Ross.” She hoped that those were the right words, because it wasn’t like someone had left her specific instructions as to how to do this. 

Fortunately, magic is largely about intent and Harley’s intent was correct. She looked down and grinned as the trunk opened and therein lay the leather-bound grimoire. Harley reached down and picked it up. It was beautiful. The leather was obviously dragon-leather. What kind, neither knew, but it was strong and thick and inky-black. 

“I’d better carry this, love” Harley said. “We’re not married or even engaged yet and I don’t know what the book would do to you if you touched it.”

Hermione nodded her understanding. “Close the trunk and let’s get out of here.”

Harley did so and they made their way towards the entrance of the vault. Once they were outside, Harley grinned and pointed her wand towards the vault-door. “Close, Sesame.”

Hermione didn’t know what made her laugh harder: the Bugs-Bunny reference or the fact that it  _ fucking worked.  _ The door closed and the two got back into the cart which would take them back to Ragnok’s office. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Hogwarts – 8:30 pm. Deputy Headmistress’ office**

Hermione and Harley stepped out of the flames and into the deputy headmistress’ office at precisely half-eight. Minerva looked at them and could see the pleased expressions on their faces. “I take it your adventure was productive?”

Hermione grinned and pulled out the Athame that they had found and laid it on her desk. “I’d not recommend touching it, Professor. It loves me and will tolerate Harley, but I don’t think anyone else could even touch it without getting hurt.”

She looked at it and asked Hermione to turn it over, so that she could see the other side. “What is it? I don’t recognize the metal.”

“Star-stone, or at least that’s what the note with it said. If I understood the middle-English right, it was taken from a rock that fell to Earth. I know it’s not iron, nor is it titanium or one of the other rare-Earth metals. It’s denser than anything I’ve ever seen before, in fact. It’s razor-sharp and there’s not a hint of rust on it, so I assume that it doesn’t oxidize easily. I have to assume there’s either some Nickel in it or Chromium, but I could be wrong there too. The stone in the cross is a Blue Sapphire. Biggest one I’ve ever seen. It’s also an octagon or something close to that.”

“Well, it will make a statement, that’s for sure, and that was the point of the exercise. Did you get the other thing?”

Harley nodded and took from her special bag, the Grimoire. She laid it on the table and turned it so that Minerva could see the front cover. “Like Hermione said, I’d not suggest touching it. She can’t even touch it. It’s Ross blood or nothing. Whatever is in the book has to be worth protecting. I’m glad I have it. I’ll put in my chest and engage the blood wards.”

“Do that. And explain to your room-mates that for their own health, they’re not to touch it, ever. Even if they see it lying on your bed or something. I don’t want to see them hurt.”

Harley nodded her agreement. “Now you two. You’ve got fighting with Professor Flitwick tomorrow and Saturday. Sunday, I want you two to sleep, eat, and study. You’ve got to be clear-headed for Monday. What time are you meeting Ragnok’s representative?”

“7:20 am in the Great Atrium.”

“Very good then. You two are dismissed for the evening.”

Hermione gathered up the Athame and Harley put away the Grimoire and the two made their way out of Minerva’s office. Curfew wasn’t until 10pm, but neither felt like going to the library and neither was particularly hungry, so they made their way back to their dorm-room, to shower and get ready for the next day.

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**Hogwarts Great Hall – Friday morning, October 4, 1991**

Hermione felt tired. Good, but tired… and that was a problem, since they had Potions first thing in the morning on Friday. The only up-side was her relationship with Harley, which had changed for the better. Ever since their encounter in the vault, Harley was much more touchy-feely and that was a good thing, since it made the two of them feel closer. Hermione had, daringly, shown Harley the pink silk knickers she was planning on wearing for the day and then pulled her close and said, “Think they’ll look good on me? If you’re a good girl, you can undress me tonight and see….”

Hermione had then darted into the shower, leaving Harley gapping like a fish. It was  _ awesome _ . 

“ _ I’m going to get my girl… she’s gonna pay for that! I’m not going to be able to think straight all day.” _

Potions flew by. Nymphadora had done a great job in setting up the class so that the potion that they were scheduled to make that day – a  _ shrinking solution _ – would practically make itself. She demonstrated each step and then had them do that step, before preceding to the next step. It was a perfect potion for teaching that way, because there was enough time between each step. Not all potions were like that and sometimes you needed teams of three or four people to prep steps, so that they could be done in exact order, at the precise time. 

Transfiguration was fine… not great, but fine. Minerva was still uncertain about what to try to teach them. From Hermione’s perspective, it was infuriating. They were there to learn and the one person who was the acknowledged expert in Transfiguration was not doing anything to teach them at their appropriate level. This day, they had been working on animating transfiguration, since they had both proven that they could do it. 

One of their exercises was imbuing their will into their animated transfigurations. They were told to create their own wizard’s chess board and make their chess pieces fight it out. Once they had seen how a wizard’s chess board worked (neither had ever seen one before), they set to it. Harley conjured a board and all of the pieces that they needed, and then the two of them animated them, each to her own side. 

By the end of the class, it was a slaughter. Harley and Hermione were both down to a Queen, King, and rook and the two sides were doing their best, within the rules, to kick the shit out of the other. Hermione won finally, since her team caught Harley’s pieces in a pincer-movement from which they could not extract themselves. And of course, the rest of the class had abandoned their work to watch the fight;  _ oooo’ing _ and  _ ahhhh’ing _ as it played out on the chess board. Hermione’s figures had even bowed to her after they won!

After the board was magically vanished – which somehow really pissed off Minerva, Harley bowed to Hermione and kneeled before her. “I am your loyal servant, my Mistress”. The class howled with laughter as Hermione took her athame and “knighted” Harley, before the girls got up and left for lunch.

Minerva was infuriated. She had lost control of her class  _ again _ – and there was nothing she could do about it. What sucked was that she had to admit to herself that she had created the circumstances that led, directly, to the loss of control. Worse, it seemed that her own jealousy was keeping her from doing what she knew she really had to do, which was to give the girls extra tuition, on an ability-related level, which could be as high as fourth or fifth-year (for some things) and maybe, sixth or seventh-year for others. She just had no idea – and she knew, in a moment of honesty, that a part of her really didn’t want to teach them at an ability-related level.  _ It just wasn’t fair! Why did she have to work so hard as a young woman, to learn how to do everything, and these god-damned girls come along and make it look easy, as first-years! _ Minerva knew that she was jealous. She also knew that it wasn’t at all becoming of her to refuse to teach the girls appropriately, but it was maddening! Why did Magic give to some and not to others and why did the girls get to have someone to love, from almost the get-go? The two girls had  _ conjured a chess board and pieces! And then animated them to their will! That was a 5 _ _ th _ _ or 6 _ _ th _ _ year skill!  _

Now she had to prepare to have her students confront the totality of the Wizengamot, and to deal with the blow-back when the Wizengamot experiences its first loss to an 11-year-old girl – and they were going to lose. They just didn’t’ know it yet. Harley had Ragnok of Gringotts on her side, along with Isabelle Ross, of the House of Ross, and Theodore Edward (Ted) Tonks as her solicitor. She also had sole control of the wealth of the House of Ross, which was so vast as to be staggering. Plus, she had the wealth of the House of Potter, which was substantial, but not in league with the House of Ross.  _ And... _ she had the magical legacy of both houses. If she gained any more power, she’d be the singularly most powerful person in the Kingdom, maybe in all of Europe. Whatever happened, things were going to hit the fan on Monday and it was going to be spectacular.

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**House of Yaxley, Pike Lake, Potmore, UK – Friday, October 4** **th** **. Early evening.**

Corban Yaxley was stewing. The ‘plan’ that Lucius Malfoy had foisted on him was looking more and more untenable. Irina was reporting that Harley Ross was capable of far more than he had expected and it boded ill their plans. The girl could do things, apparently, that were  _ at minimum _ , 5 th and 6 th -year skills and Irina had reported that those were the things that she had done in public and that it was impossible to know whether those were the limits of her skills or just a demonstration of  _ some _ of the things that the girl knew how to do. 

Worse, Irina reported that Harley Ross had basically called out the deputy headmistress at breakfast and dared her to enforce her will and that Minerva  _ had backed down _ . She also reported that even before classes had started, Harley had banished a class-3 demon! That meant that someone was training her out of school, and to a standard that made Corban genuinely concerned. If she could casually banish a demon, with no preparation and no obvious effort, then she was far more powerful than Lucius thought. 

_ Should I reach out to her and settle this, before this gets out of hand? I could owl Irina and have her give a letter to Lady Ross…  _ His thoughts trailed off as he heard someone walking up to the house. It was Lucius Malfoy. Corban walked to the front door and greeted him, even before the man had a chance to knock. “Welcome, Lucius. What brings you today?”

“Things have changed, Corban. And not to our benefit.”

“I have Irina’s reports of the goings-on at Hogwarts. What is your news?”

Corban bade him sit and then summoned a house-elf to serve them drinks. Once the house-elf had done his work, Lucius continued. “I serve the Dark Lord, Corban. I serve his needs while we await his return. I am not in a position, though, to see people wasted to no purpose. I now have cause to be  _ concerned _ about calling out the Lady Ross. There have been stirrings at Gringotts and my sources say that the Horde is mobilizing in support of her. I have a report that Ragnok himself has met with her twice, in private. We cannot afford to have the Horde against us.”

Corban knew that he’d rather burn alive than be  _ sanctioned _ by the Horde. “I have heard, Lucius, that Harley Ross has openly confronted Minerva, without concern or hesitancy. She even laughed at her in public. Minerva tried to discipline her and Harley just ignored her. Irina reports to me that the rest of the houses are supporting her, out loud or tacitly, and that includes your son, Draco.”

Lucius listened to what Corban was saying and stewing internally that his own son had gone so far as to go silent, in face of such power.  _ But wasn’t that exactly what a smart Slytherin would do? Keep his head down when someone that powerful comes along? _

“There’s one thing that you need to know, but you may have already seen the  _ Daily Prophet _ on this. Harley Ross is, apparently, a witch’s witch. Her girlfriend is, apparently, the magical heir of the House of Dagworth-Granger.”

Lucius sipped the Scotch that Corban had served. It was smooth and good, but it didn’t squash the nerves he was feeling – a feeling that he was distinctly unused to experiencing. “There’s nothing we can do about that. And it’s not like that’s that unusual, at some level. Bellatrix…” He let the thought dangle. Bellatrix was a known lesbian who had slept with most of the girls in Slytherin when she had been in school. 

Bellatrix had married Rabastan Lestrange only at Cygnus Black’s wand-point just after being graduated from Hogwarts and the union had never produced children, which was hardly a surprise. Lucius knew she had been “loosely moraled”, which was to say that she had been a slut. She had loved sex and she loved being worshipped and was, frankly, as narcissistic as anyone as anyone he had ever met - including his own son and that was saying something. Given her time in Azkaban, she was also crazy. Dementors did that to a person. 

“But what are we going to do, Lucius? We’ve started this and now we know what’s against us. We don’t have the votes, once these two are accepted to their seats, to do anything to them and moving against the first of the twenty-eight… given my tenuous claim for Irina’s sake… it’s not going to be easy. If I challenge her and I lose, then my house may be forfeit. If I win and the Horde sanctions me for my temerity then I’m screwed. If the House of Dagworth challenges me in defense of House Ross and I lose, my house may be forfeit. See where I’m going? There’s no version of this where I come out on top.”

Lucius looked at him and thought about what he had just said. It was completely true that if the Horde sanctioned one or both of their houses, they were screwed. The Dark Lord, when he came back, would punish them terribly for doing something so fucking stupid that they got themselves  _ sanctioned _ by the Horde. Not only would it put their monies out of reach for the Dark Lord’s purposes, which would cripple their long-term goals, but it would also make it highly likely that the “forces of the light” would be able to exploit the situation and destroy them. Dumbledore played the long game and he almost always won. If he recruited the Lady Ross and pointed her at House Malfoy and House Yaxley, they were screwed. 

“Look, if it turns out that the Horde has sent one of their representatives to protect the girl, we withdraw. That’s the best I can offer. Otherwise, we probably have to make our opening play and see how it goes.”

“And what if she calls us out? What if she challenges me for the insult?”

“Then you try to put her off or you get that sniveling shit… Umbitch?”

“Umbridge, but close enough”

“Yes, her. Let her take the heat or do the bluffing for us. Maybe, if we get lucky, Ross will kill her instead.”

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**Ministry for Magic – Great Atrium – 7:20 AM, Monday, October 7, 1991**

They came in force, since it was the only play that they could make  _ publicly.  _ Minerva McGonagall appeared, followed quickly by Rolanda Hooch, Nymphadora Tonks, and Susan Bones, Of the House of Bones. Amelia Bones, Head of the DMLE and Regent for the House of Bones, appeared in the next floo-opening and greeted her niece. Heir-Apparent, Daphne Greegrass, of House Greengrass, and Tracy Ann Davis, of House Davis – appeared as well. Then Hermione stepped out of the floo, as did Harley. Harley’s mother was waiting for them and took her daughter into a crushing hug, the moment that she saw her. Ted Tonks was dressed in his solicitor’s robes and was accompanied by his junior partner and legal assistants. Then the Gringotts representative, Dread, appeared. That she was female was all the better, Harley thought upon meeting her.

“Lord Ragnok sends his greetings. He has asked me to crush your enemies and send them fleeing before you.”

“I rejoice in his regards and want you to let him know that my blood would always be shed for him and his.” Harley replied. Dread nodded and looked pleased, though it was hard to tell with Goblins. Isabelle said something to her in her mother-tongue and Dread looked at her in astonishment. 

“Are we ready?” Isabelle asked the assembled group. Everyone nodded. Everyone was wearing Wizengamot-approved robes, which was to say that they were wearing shades of black or grey, with their house emblems visible on their chests. It was a remarkable group. “Let’s go.”

They filed into the Wizengamot chamber and sought out their seats. Per tradition for those who hadn’t been recognized yet by the body, Hermione and Harley took their places in the unadorned box, next to the prosecutor’s box, and waited. Ted Tonks joined them, as did Dread and Nymphadora Tonks. Harley stood to Hermione’s left, to make sure her wand hand was free, if needed. Isabelle stood next to Minerva McGonagall and Rolanda Hooch in the gallery area. Susan Bones took her designated seat, as did Tracy Davis and Daphne Greengrass. 

Finally, the Dark Faction walked in. Corban Yaxley; Lucius Malfoy; Walden Macnair; Antonin Travers; Augustus Rookwood; Alecto Carrow and her brother, Amycus.

The only wife who came for the dark faction was Narcissa Malfoy. That threw Harley off a bit, since Draco had been very quiet and inoffensive towards her. As they took their seats, the Supreme Mugwump pro temp walked it. It wasn’t Dumbledore, which really surprised everyone.  _ Why wasn’t he here? What did that mean for us? _

Fortunately, the Supreme Mugwump Pro Temp turned out to be Madame Marchbanks, who, due to her very advanced age, was well regarded by all sides. 

At exactly 8:30 AM, a gong sounded and the stragglers hustled into the hall and found their seats. The huge doors were closed and a hush settled over the assembled members. 

“Welcome, all, to the eight-seven hundred and sixtieth meeting of the Wizengamot, in regular session.  My Lords and Members of the Wizengamot, I pray that the blessing of the Almighty God may rest upon your counsels. God Save our Gracious Queen!”

The Senior Wizard of the Hit Wizards of the DMLE rose and said, “HEARYE, HEARYE, HEARYE! ALL RISE, MEMBERS OF THE WIZENGAMOT AND PLEDGE YOURSELVES!”

The body of members rose and said, as one, “I... do solemnly, sincerely and truly declare and affirm that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth, her heirs and successors, according to law. I will protect Magic and give my life, if necessary, in defense of the Magical Realm, so help me God.”

Harley and Hermione could feel the power of the oath as it swept through the room and sealed the oath upon everyone present. Once done, the members of the body sat down and there was silence, as everyone waited on the Supreme Mugwump, Pro temp. Hermione and Harley watched, hand in hand, for what they knew was coming. Both had their wands ready, if necessary. 

“Members of the Wizengamot, good morning. We are called into this extraordinary session of the Wizengamot on grounds of special member privilege, challenging the Right of Inheritance and Succession for proposed member of this body. Is the challenger here? Rise and be recognized!”

Corban Yaxley rose and Harley saw, immediately, that he was extremely nervous.

“Is the Challenged here?”

Harley rose, after squeezing Hermione’s hand.

“Who rises to support the challenged?”

Dread rose, along with Minerva McGonagall, Isabelle Ross, Rolanda Hooch, Ted Tonks, and Amelia Bones.

“Come forward, witnesses, to the witness box before me and identify yourselves.”

When the group assembled in the witness box, Madame Marchbanks looked down and them and smiled. She knew all of them, except for Isabelle and Gringotts’ representative.

“I am the Lady Minerva Catherine McGonagall, of House McGonagall.”

“I am Isabelle Marie Ross, of the House of Ross, and mother to Harley Janel Ross.”

“I am Rolanda Hooch, Flying instructor for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry”

“I am Theodore Edward Tonks, of Tonks & Tonks. I am solicitor and represent Harley Janel Ross.”

“I am Amelia Jean Bones, Regent of House Bones. I am the Director of Magical Law Enforcement for Her Royal Majesty.”

“I am Dread. I am the Representative of Lord Ragnok. I speak for the Horde.”

With that, they sat down and waited for Madame Marchbanks. Finally, she stood up and approached her lecturne. “Let us begin. Who speaks for the Wizengamot?”

A tall, thin, bespectacled man, with salt-and-pepper hair stood up. “I am Elphias Doge. I represent the Department of Taxes and Records.”

“Very well then, Mr. Doge. What is the position of the Department on this matter?”

“We find that Harley Janel Ross is who she says she is. She is the legitimate inheritor of the family’s assets. We cannot speak to the family magic. You will have to ask the Representative from Gringotts on that matter.”

“Goblin Dread? You speak for Lord Ragnok and for the Horde? What say you to the matter of the Magic of House Ross?”

Dread rose and move to the lecture that appeared at the front of the edge of their box. “Lady Marchbanks, I speak for the Horde and for my Lord Ragnok. We say this: The Lady Harley Janel Ross is what she says she is: The legitimate heir, in law and in magic, for the House of Ross.”

“Who else speaks for the challenged?”

“I do, Lady Marchbanks.” Ted Tonks said, as he rose.

“Speak then, Solicitor Tonks.”

“Thank you, Lady Marchbanks. Thank you, members of the Wizengamot. I am Theodore Edward Tonks, of the firm Tonks & Tonks. I was retained to speak for Lady Ross. I will tell you that she is, in law and magic, the daughter of Isabelle Marie Ross. She wears the house-ring and controls the family vaults. We contest any challenge to her validity as the Lady of the House.”

There was conversation all around the Wizengamot. People were conversing quietly with each other. Lucius watched nervously, as did Corban. They were holding 6’s over 2’s and the other side was Aces over Jacks. It was either bluff or fold. They had one play and there was no reason not to try it.

Lady Marchbanks was very close to calling the question, since it seemed pretty air-tight that the Lady Ross was exactly who she said she was. She was wearing the family ring and that didn’t happen by accident. Magic either agreed or it didn’t, and the consequences of trying to wear the family ring if it didn’t like you wasn’t worth contemplating. However, she had to do the thing properly, so that the Wizengamot could put the matter behind it and move on with other matters.

“Who speaks for the challenge?”

“I, Corban Xerxes Yaxley, speak for the challenge.” 

“Very well. Come forward and speak your case.”

Corban made his way down to the speaker’s box and stood up to the lecturne. “Good morning, gentle members of the Wizengamot. My name is Corban Xerxes Yaxley and I am challenging this inheritance on behalf of my daughter, Irina Yaxley. We challenge Harley’s claim to the House of Ross and say that she is illegitimate. My daughter is the rightful heir. She is the step-granddaughter of Pomodora’s younger sister, Lilian Alice Ross.”

There was a smattering of applause, but it was muted.

“Who rises in rebuttal?”

“I do!” 

“Rise and speak.”

“Good morning, gentle members of the Wizengamot. My name is Isabelle Marie Ross. Harley Janel Ross is my adopted daughter, in blood and in magic. I am the directly line granddaughter of Isobelle Ross, Pomodora’s eldest sister, and thus many years primary in inheritance. This is attested by the entirety of the Oak Circle. She is the rightful inheritor of the Legacy, Magic, and assets of the House of Ross. It has been confirmed by the Goblins of Gringotts. Her inheritance test was performed by Lord Ragnok himself! I will swear, on my life and on my magic, that I adopted Harley and that she is my daughter.” With that, Isabelle sat down.

“Does anyone else rise to speak?”

Harley had had enough. “I do.”

“Rise and speak then.”

“Good morning, gentle members of the Wizengamot. My name is Harley Janel Ross.” She lifted up her wand; holding it high so that all could see it. “I swear, on my life and on my magic, that my adoptive mother is Isabelle Marie Ross, and that I am her daughter, in love and magic and in all other ways that matter. I further swear that I was adopted within the Oak Circle and it was witnessed by the High Witch herself. So I say, so I swear!”

When the oath had taken hold, Harley lifted her wand up again and said, “Lumos Maxima!”

The huge room was filled with the massive, almost blinding light and everyone got the point. “Now, is anyone stupid enough to challenge me?”

Harley looked around. She was itching for a fight and desperately wanted to take her anger out on someone. Hermione could feel her love’s anger and her desire for a fight. She felt it too but knew that killing someone in the middle of the Wizengamot probably wasn’t a good idea, despite the palpable appeal.

Corban looked at the girl and in a moment of clarity, realized that the girl was itching for a fight. She really, really wanted to kill someone and that someone was  _ him _ . She was hoping that he’d do something stupid so that she could call him out and then kill him. Probably really painfully too. He turned to Lucius. “We’ve lost.”

Lucius nodded. Now he knew why Draco was afraid of the girl. Even from across the room, he could feel her magic flowing out from her in waves – and he had never, ever felt that, either in the presence of his master or in the presence of Albus Dumbledore, who was an acknowledged Magus. She had to be  _ at least _ that. And Magi came in pairs – so the girl who was next to him, who was her acknowledged girlfriend, had to be a Magus as well. His only hope now was that his ace-in-the-hole was successful.

Madame Marchbanks called the question. It was unanimous, with four abstentions. 

In the afterward, Harley thought that being sworn in as a member of the Wizengamot, and the first of the sacred twenty-eight was a real let-down. 

As they made their way out of the chamber, a number of people shook Harley’s or Hermione’s hand; congratulating them on their ascensions to full membership. The two girls made a point of thanking Amelia for being present; thanking Dread for her willingness to defend them and thanking Ted for representing them with aplomb. They also hugged everyone, including Daphne, Susan, and Tracey – pledging that a party would be in the offing just as soon as Harley and Hermione had a moment to arrange one. 

It was only because Isabelle was being her careful, cautious self that she heard the beginnings of the incantation:  _ “AVADA…”. _ Whoever he was, he didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. Isabelle’s blue-white sword cut him in half before he could finish it. 

The next moment, all hell broke loose. There was screaming and yelling for Aurors and three bloody pieces of a very, very dead body on the ground, wearing black robes and a Death-eater mask. 

Soon, the group was surrounded by Aurors and they had their wands pointed at just about everyone. Unfortunately, one of them was sticking his wand’s tip up under Hermione’s chin in a very threatening way, causing her to tremble with fear. Harley looked at him and suddenly, the madness that had threatened to break loose in the Wizengamot chamber was loose. The man started gasping and looking around in panic. Then he saw the green, glowing eyes staring at him in a look of fury so pure that it made him piss himself. Hermione watched as Harley used her magic on the man and  _ squeezed.  _ “You touched my girl.” 

The other Aurors stopped and watched in horror as the man was lifted up, off the ground, clutching at his throat. Finally Isabelle, realizing what was going on, touched her daughter on the shoulder and that was enough to get the man released. He crumpled to the ground and lay there, gasping. The Aurors all put away their wands, carefully, and obviously, so that the girl saw it.

Harley looked around, magic rolling off her in waves that everyone could feel. “Anyone else?”

Amelia Bones rushed up and pushed away the first rank of Aurors who were standing around, looking at their comrade on the ground. “WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?”

Several Aurors started talking at once. She silenced them all and then pointed to one, tall, distinguished-looking bald black man. “Shak, tell me what’s going on”. He pointed at the body on the ground, which was still in the process of bleeding out. It had been obviously pointless to try to save the man, since he was in multiple pieces. “Whose work was that and who is it?”

One of the other Aurors knelt down and lifted off the mask. “Walden McNair.”

“Check his left arm.”

The kneeling Auror did so, and the Dark Mark was plainly visible. “Death Eater”. 

“Who disposed of him?”

Isabelle stepped forward. “That was me, Amelia. He started the Death Curse. Don’t know who his target was, but I wasn’t going to take a chance.”

Amelia pointed a finger. “Check his wand.”

The Auror did so and the  _Priori Incantatum_ showed the obvious green of the death-curse. Amelia nodded. “Thank you.” Turning to Isabelle, “You’re clear. Self-defense. I’d love to know how you did that though.” and she pointed a finger at the multiple pieces of body.

Isabelle grinned and holding her wand away from her body, she said, “Like this”.

The blue-white of the glowing blade made several people who were passing stop and gasp. “A LIGHT SABER!” was heard from somewhere in the sudden crowd. Isabelle grinned again. Amelia looked at the sword glowing from the tip of the wand. 

“You can use that as a sword? And you used it to….”

Isabelle nodded, before she extinguished the sword. “I’ve never seen anything like that. Your spell?”

Isabelle nodded again. “Took me about two hours to create. It’s very effective. I can cut through  _ anything _ .”

Amelia whistled. “That’s a hell of an ability. What’s it worth to you to teach me how to do that?”

“For you? Free. For anyone else… they can’t afford it. I’ll teach your niece as well… but I will spell you so that you can never teach it to anyone else. I don’t want this getting into the wrong hands.”

Amelia weighed the value of knowing such an amazingly valuable bit of magic against the restriction of never being able to teach anyone else the secret. She vacillated on the point for a minute or so before reluctantly agreeing It was just too good to pass up. 

“When and where?”

“Come with us back to Hogwarts. I’ll teach you there. It will take twenty minutes.”

Amelia nodded. Then she turned, and said to one of her Aurors, “Get the body taken to the morgue. His assets are confiscated.” She turned to Dread, and said, “Please tell Lord Ragnok that this man’s assets” and she pointed to what was left of McNair, “Are forfeit to the Ministry for his crime of being a death-eater… Minus, of course, 10% for their efforts… 12% if it’s done in the next hour.”

Dread nodded and smiled a toothy Goblin grin. She smelled profit. “It shall be done.”

Amelia grinned and extended her hand, which the Goblin took. “A pleasure doing business with you. Please tell Lord Ragnok that we celebrate his skilled leadership and rejoice in the spilt blood of his enemies.”

The crowd slowly dispersed, leaving the original core group plus Amelia. Hermione was in Harley’s arms, which everyone accepted without a question. Isabelle looked at them all and said, “Hogwarts?”

“My office. It will be less watched.”

Everyone picked a floo entrance and after a minute, the group was gone.

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**Minerva McGonagall’s office, two minutes later.**

Minerva summoned a Hogwarts elf and asked for tea all around. Once it was served, she dismissed the elf with a hug and looked around. There was considerable interest in the way she had just interacted with her elf. Minerva looked at them, shrugged, and said, “She’s family. She loves me and I protect her.” Amelia looked at her old friend and said, “You know that word of that will get around, right?”

Minerva shrugged as if to say, “So?”. 

“House-elves aren’t stupid, Minerva. If word gets around that you treat yours with such affection and attention, they’ll all come to expect it.”

“And they should. If you abuse someone who works for you, simply because you can, you’re no better than the Death Eater who Isabelle dispatched.” Amelia thought about that and it sank down into her soul. 

Harley caught Amelia’s eye and it occurred to Amelia to ask the first-year girl just what she had done to the Auror who had pissed himself. “Lady Ross, what did you do to my Auror today. The other Aurors made a show of putting away their wands and I want to know why, if I may.”

Hermione turned to her girl and said in a whisper, “Do it softly. Don’t scare her.”

Harley nodded and then said, “Madame Bones, I did this” and she reached out with her magic. Amelia felt the power grab ahold of her throat and begin to close about it. It was terrifying. Then the pressure disappeared and she was free to breathe. She looked at the girl and realized two things: (1) The girl was a fucking magical powerhouse, and (2) her Auror had every right to be scared out of his mind. Harley could have killed him easily. 

When she was able to speak again, Amelia said, “That’s quite the ability. You wouldn’t want to share how you do that, would you?”

Harley shook her head. “No, Ma’am. I’m not teaching anyone, save Hermione, how to do that. It’s way too useful.”

Amelia was disappointed, but she wasn’t about to try to force the issue. Not when there were at least three people in the room who could cut her into little bits for having the temerity to try to do so. She still wanted to learn how to form the light-sword. That would make her the most bad-ass DMLE leader  _ ever _ . 

“Now, Amelia, let’s go into Minerva’s ante-room and I will teach you how to form the sword. I will teach your niece after you leave.”

Amelia took Isabelle’s proffered hand and they left the room. Daphne and Tracey asked to be excused and they, too, left, after Harley and Hermione thanked them with profuse hugs. It left Minerva, Harley, Hermione, Rolanda, and Nymphadora. Minerva looked at the group. “It’s actually fortuitous that I have all of you here. Harley, Hermione, we, as your teachers, need to know what it is that you want to learn next. You’ve already blown through everything that we would otherwise expect for this year’s work and for next year’s work and, at least in my case, for everything in your third year. There’s some theory that I’m sure you’ve not gotten to that you’ll need to know, but as practiced magic, you’ve done everything. What do you want to learn next?”

Hermione looked at Harley, and then pulled her girlfriend close and whispered in her ear. Harley grinned and nodded. Hermione said, “Well, Harley’s mother started us in on Conjury, so we’d like to study that. We’d also like to learn Fumation, as an alternative to Apparition. Harley thinks that she and I ought to know ritual magic and how to both lead and participate in rituals. We’d like to start learning Runes and Runic magic. Finally, we’d like to learn warding and how to use Runes to build Wards.”

Nymphadora said, “Jeez. You two are ambitious little chits. I don’t even know how to Fumate or to build wards.”

“And that’s why you’re a seventh-year student instead of a full professor, Nymphadora” Rolanda said. 

Minerva snorted. “I don’t even know how to Fumate. I can ask Professor Flitwick though. He might know. As for Conjury? I can teach you some of that, but I’m not an expert. We’ll have to bring someone in from the outside. We can teach you Runes and Runic magic, at least to a certain point. As for Ritual magic? You’ll have to learn that from Isabelle and the Oak Circle. We have no one at Hogwarts who’s even vaguely familiar with that. Warding – well, that’s a cross between Charms and Runic magic. Professor Flitwick can teach you some of it and Professor Babbling can teach you what she knows. Anything else?”

Hermione grinned. “No, that should just about cover it. If we get to fifth year and we’re bored, we’ll let you know. I know that the Goblins are looking for people. Maybe we can apprentice to them for sixth-year?” She let the thought hang for a moment, while she enjoyed the looks of horror on her professor’s faces. 

Minerva shook her head. She had no idea that the girls would want to go as far as they had described, but it was clear that they wanted to learn  _ everything _ that Hogwarts had to offer and then some. They were going to wring every single bit of knowledge that they could out of their professors and make them work for their titles. In a way, it was refreshing. She hadn’t been pushed in a very long time. The last prodigy to come through Hogwarts was…  _ Lily Potter. _ Minerva had to catch herself and take in a deep breath as she realized just how deep the magic ran in the Potter family. For Lily to create a child who could come along and do such magic was both expected, but amazing as well. 

She was just about to call for another pot of tea when Isabelle came back with Amelia and Susan Bones. Both had grins on their faces. Amelia seemed particularly pleased. 

“I’m going take my leave, Minerva. Today has worked out really well already and I’m looking forward to seeing how much we net from Isabelle’s work. Enough to buy some more armor for the Aurors, I think.” She didn’t say that she was on her way back to DMLE headquarters to berate and otherwise chastise the Aurors who had confronted Isabelle, Harley, and Hermione. Why one of her Aurors hadn’t tried to stun the girl from behind was a mystery to her. Beyond that, she had to figure out what she was going to do with the Auror whom Harley had confronted. She had scared the piss out of him, literally – and that’s never a good thing for a law-enforcement officer. If he was useable in the field, after that experience, it was going to be a miracle. 

Everyone wished her well and watched her disappear into the secure floo. Susan asked to be excused and left the office, in search of some coffee and some breakfast. Isabelle turned to the group of professors. “I’m going to eat breakfast with my daughter and her girl, and then I’m going to take off. I’ve got to get back to the States and take care of some things there that I’ve left half-done.”

“Go then, Isabelle. Your daughter is very proud of you and you have every right to be proud of her. She’s going to strain every last resource we have here, but there’s nothing we can do about that, is there?”

There was no edge or animosity in Minerva’s voice. Not this time, at least. Isabelle nodded and then disappeared with Harley and Hermione; leaving just  Rolanda Hooch, Nymphadora Tonks, and Minerva. Nymphadora excused herself so that she could go and prep for her class.

“Are we doing the right thing, Rolanda?” Minerva asked. 

“What? You mean in terms of Harley and Hermione?”

“Yes… and no. I mean, are we doing the right thing allowing them to be together this early in their lives?”

Rolanda snorted. “Look, Minerva… you couldn’t keep them apart even if you wanted to. You said it yourself. They’re magi, and those come in pairs. Now, there hasn’t been a pair of female Magi in recorded history, which is something that I am  _ not _ going to tell them. They don’t need that pressure. Secondly, if you tried to split them up, they’d resent you to Hell and probably transfer to Beauxbatons or Ilvermorny... or the Salem Academy. Third, isn’t it better that they have us teaching and defending them, instead of teachers who would not appreciate them and could not bring them to their full potential?”

Minerva couldn’t argue with any of Rolanda’s points. It was just that there were forces that were swirling around that were out of her control. She didn’t know it yet, but there were. One of the issues that she  _ did _ know about was Harley’s godfather, Sirius Black. There was something off with that whole situation – his imprisonment, etc. – but she didn’t have time to dig into it. Not yet at least. One thing she was going to have to deal with was the Cloak that Albus was holding, that he had gotten from James Potter. It was Harley’s by right and she had to figure a way to ‘liberate’ it from Albus and get it to the girl. Fawkes, maybe? She’d have to think about that.

Rolanda looked at her and said, “By the way, how  _ did _ you keep Albus and his extraordinarily large nose, out of the business this morning?”

“I put a wandering-charm on his glasses last night and then co-opted my elf to put a sleeping draught in his tea, first-thing this morning. He drank his tea without putting on his glasses, which have a potions-detection function built into them. I had my elf put him back to bed. He should be waking up in an hour or so.”

Rolanda looked at her, agog. It took a huge set of big brass ones to tamper with the Headmaster that way. “He’s going to be  _ furious _ when he wakes up and realizes that he’s missed the session.”

Minerva shrugged. “Well, he  _ is _ 157\. It’s bound to happen once in a while that a lack of sleep catches up with you.”

Rolanda shook her head. “Remind me to never get you mad at me. You’re devious.”

“It’s the only way that I’ve lasted in this job. I’ve had to co-opt every elf in the school to keep me in the loop as to what’s going on. I’ve got tracker-charms on every one of the girls in the school as well as unwanted sexual contact charms. It’s the only way that I feel safe at night.”

Rolanda whistled. “That’s a hell of a magical burden, Minerva. Sure you don’t want to share some of the load and let me help?”

Minerva smiled. “Thought you’d never ask. Yes, please. At my age, it’s starting to get to be a heavy load.”

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**Tuesday, October 8, 1991 – Great Hall, Hogwarts 7am. **

Unlike most days, the Great Hall was up in arms the moment that the owls made their daily postal deliveries. As had become usual, more than thirty first-year girls gathered around Harley and Hermione. There was  _ a lot _ of talking. Some of it was clearly about the morning’s lead article.

** _“_ _Conservatives challenge the House of Ross”_ **

** _By Rita Skeeter_ **

** _ The conservative faction in the Wizengamot challenged the legitimacy of the Heir of the House of Ross – Lady Harley Janel Ross – and they lost. It was clear from the outset that Corban Yaxley and his supporters were not prepared to take on the combined weight of the DMLE, Gringotts Bank, and the House of Ross itself. The House of Ross came in force to the Wizengamot and were clearly prepared to do battle, legal and otherwise. Corban Yaxley wasn’t even ready to present any kind of evidence of his claim on behalf of his elder daughter, Irina Yaxley. Isabelle Marie Ross, the adoptive mother of the Lady Harley Janel Ross, however, came prepared. Not only did they have sworn statements, but each was willing to pledge and swear on her magic the truth of her statements. Lord Ragnok himself sent Dread, to stand firm in defense of the House of Ross. The well-respected Solicitor, Ted Tonks, came to defend the House of Ross and to take on any challengers. In the end, no one could keep the House of Ross from its rightful seat as first of the twenty-eight. Further, the House of Dagworth-Granger was re-established, in the person of Lady Hermione Jane Dagworth-Granger. She, of course, is the acknowledged girlfriend of the Lady Ross, in what seems to be a powerful relationship. _ **

** _In a related matter, the House of Ross was attacked as they left the Wizengamot chamber. Walden McNair, the senior executioner for the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, had begun the Death Curse when he was struck down by Isabelle Ross, wielding some kind of light-sword. Regent Ross was cleared immediately of any charges, on the grounds of self-defense. On the other hand, House McNair has been dissolved, because of fines levied against it on the grounds that Walden McNair was shown to be a Death Eater, by the Dark Mark on his left forearm and the Death Eater mask and cloak that he wore during his attack. _ **

** _“We physically stripped the deceased so that any tattoos could be uncovered and when we did, we found that he bore the Dark Mark. This is considered De Facto proof of membership in an illegal organization and culpability in the death of at least one Muggle, since that is the requirement for obtaining the Dark Mark in the first instance.” Said Amelia Bones, Head of the DMLE, in a statement that was released an hour after the body was removed from the Great Atrium. _ **

** _Gringotts Bank acknowledged yesterday afternoon that House McNair was stripped of its assets immediately. The Mugwump pro temp also acknowledged in a statement that House McNair was stripped of its seat in the Wizengamot. This last action brings the Conservatives down to their lowest ebb in fifty years. It will be interesting to see how that plays out in future legislation. In the meantime, the Liberals will gain two more seats and the power of the presence of the First of the Twenty-Eight. (See article on pg. 3 about the powers of the House of Ross). _ **

Albus Dumbledore sat at the head-table and fumed at the state of things. Not only had he slept through the entirety of the Wizengamot session, but all of his conniving and strategizing had come to naught. Legislation could no longer be passed without the imprimatur of the House of Ross, which would bollocks up his attempts to shape Britain’s magical society to his liking. Worse, it would put power in the hands of girls and women and that was something that he just could not abide. He was a firm believer in male rights and primacy. 

Minerva sat back and watched the spectacle play out at the Gryffindor table. It was impossible not to see what was going on. Harley Ross and Hermione Granger were gathering a following. Students were listening to them. This morning, they were teaching… something. She couldn’t see it from where she sat, but it was obvious that everyone was mesmerized. 

If she had made the effort to walk the Gryffindor table, she would have seen a very familiar sight and recalled the voice that made it happen. “Help me, Obi Wan. You’re my only hope.”

There were  _ ooooow’s _ and  _ ahhhhhh’s  _ as the 3D image played out. The Hermione took the lead and showed everyone how they had constructed the image, using a combination of the  _ Lumos _ charm, a color-charm, and a basic illusion charm. Then she showed the assembled students how to combine them in one charm, so that it gave the effect of 3D. She instructed everyone to pair off and try it for themselves, since it was harmless and therefore allowed in the Great Hall. 

Almost immediately, there were shouts of happiness as several of the 1 st -years succeeded in producing the effect that Hermione had instructed. Others took a few minutes longer. By the time breakfast was over, Skeeter’s article was forgotten and students were running off to their classes, happy as sin that they had just learned a cool new piece of magic. Both Filius Flitwick and Minerva McGonagall saw the successful attempts at 3D illusion conjuration and were impressed at the successes. They also felt an increasingly familiar feeling:  _ despair.  _ How were they supposed to keep the students excited when two first-year girls were showing them such cool stuff? How was a teacher supposed to compete with that and keep students engaged in their classes? 

As all of the teachers rose from the head-table, there was an unspoken, but collective sense that things were not going to get any better at Hogwarts unless or until they figured out a way to deal with two little power-houses who didn’t give a flying fig about their problems as teachers and only wanted to learn and share magic, of whatever kind. 

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	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Dark faction regrets its membership and Harry and Hermione discover an interesting side-effect of their bonding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pursuant to the [Berne Convention Implementation Act of 1988](https://www.govtrack.us/congress/bills/100/hr4262) and the [ Digital Millennium Copyright Act of 1998, 17 U.S.C. §§ 512, 120 1–1 205](https://www.law.cornell.edu/uscode/text/17), this work is copyrighted 2007 with all rights expressly reserved by its author unless explicitly granted. No portion may be reproduced in any fashion, or hosted on any website, without the express written and notarized permission of the author. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own rights to any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of Joanne K Rowling, © 2003, to whom I am deeply indebted. The Harry Potter series is property of Joanne K. Rowling, and Arthur A. Levine Books, Inc., a division of Scholastic Press, Inc., © 2003. I make no money from any of this. WHATEVER CREATIVE MATERIAL IS LEFT IS MINE.
> 
> CONTENT Disclaimer: This story may contain sexually graphic and explicit material and as such, it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now, as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. These stories are just that, stories, and do not promote or condone the activities described herein.

**  
Born To a New Dawn  
Chapter Six  
By The_Scribbler  
[the scribbler (at) shadowgard (dot) com](mailto:the_scribbler@shadowgard.com)**

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**From Chapter V…**

Almost immediately, there were shouts of happiness as several of the 1st-years succeeded in producing the effect that Hermione had instructed. Others took a few minutes longer. By the time breakfast was over, Skeeter’s article was forgotten and students were running off to their classes, happy as anything that they had just learned a cool new piece of magic. Both Filius Flitwick and Minerva McGonagall saw the successful attempts at 3D illusion conjuration and were impressed at the successes. They also felt an increasingly familiar feeling: _despair._ How were they supposed to keep the students excited when two first-year girls were showing their classmates such cool stuff? How was a teacher supposed to compete with that and keep students engaged in their classes? 

As all of the teachers rose from the head-table, there was an unspoken, but collective sense that things were not going to get any better at Hogwarts unless or until they figured out a way to deal with two little power-houses who didn’t give a flying fig about their problems as teachers and only wanted to learn and share magic, of whatever kind. 

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**House of Yaxley, Pike Lake, Potmore, UK – Saturday afternoon, October 19, 1991**

“You and your Merlin-be-damned ‘ace-in-the-hole’, Lucius! You cost us one of the Dark Lord’s best men and for what? So that you could try to make a play, even after your plan failed in the Wizengamot? Now the thrice-damned chit knows that we’re after her and it’s MY daughter who could get caught in the cross-fire!”

Lucius sat on the sofa, opposite to Corban Yaxley, swirling his jigger of Bourbon, but not saying much. Finally though, he knew he had to say something to his host. “Well, I know it. And I’m sorry for that. Irina is a sweet girl.”

“Thank you. She is sweet, and she does as she’s told. Now, McNair was a fucking fool. He tried to get close, so that he couldn’t miss and the chit’s mother cuts him into three pieces using some kind of glowing sword.” 

“I should have fucking warned him about that. The miserable bitch did the same thing to me. Cut my wand in half! Now I’m stuck with a half-arsed wand because Ollivander threw me out of his shop.”

“What do you mean, she did the same thing to you? When was this?”

“Middle of August. I was in the Alley with my son, Draco, and Isabelle Ross lit off on him at Madame Malkin’s. Called him a little snot. I cornered her while she was leaving the Alley with her daughter and her daughter’s friend, to demand an apology. The bitch cut my wand in half and then laughed at me! She did it wordlessly and I never saw it coming. Then she had the audacity to tell me that her daughter could blow a hole in me. Of course, now that I have received the reports from Hogwarts, I’m pretty much certain that her daughter could have done exactly that.”

“Where the fuck did a bitch like that come from, Lucius? What are we missing in all of this. I’m certain that there’s something we’re not seeing.”

“I’ve no idea, Corban. And yes, there’s something that we’re not seeing. I don’t know what it is, but I’m certain that you’re right. And until we figure it out, I would tell Irina to keep her head down and leave those miserable chits alone. I wouldn’t put it past them to send her back to you in a box, if they were so motivated.” “As much as I hate it, I think you’re right. I’d say the same about Draco. If Isabelle Ross has taught her daughter that sword trick, and if there’s no counter to it… that’s frightening. Imagine three, four, five witches, all wielding such a sword. They’d cut our forces to pieces, literally.”

“That’s not a thought I needed, Corban, so thanks for that. Yes, I will tell Draco to continue to keep his head down.”

“Good. I know that you and Narcissa have wanted another child, but there’s no reason to turn it into a critical need.”

“I hear you. I just have to keep Draco from feeling like he has to antagonize the chits in order to gain power within Slytherin House.”

“Actually, I had a thought about that. You know that both of them are now considered ‘pure-blood’ because of their magical heritages?”

Lucius looked at Corban, somewhat goggle-eyed. “I didn’t know that. How did you find out?”

“I have a source inside the Ministry. Someone I keep on retainer, simply for times like these.”

Lucius snorted and looked at his colleague. “I should look into that. Less of my money going into the Minister’s pocket would be a good thing.” Corban shook his head. “I hear you on that. He is a useless son of a bitch. Spine of a jellyfish. He’s a threat to himself every time he picks up a wand.” Lucius laughed, deep and long, and it felt good. “Oh, you have no idea” he said, lifting his Bourbon in a toast.

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**Wednesday, November 20, 1991 – Office of the Deputy Headmistress, Hogwarts**

There was a knock on the door, disturbing the Deputy Headmistress’ train of thought. “Come in.”

Harley Ross entered the office quietly and waited for permission to be seated. When the Deputy Headmistress looked up, she saw her number-one problem-child. Harley continued to stand and waited until she was spoken to, before speaking. 

“Well, Lady Ross, what can I do for you?”

“Good morning, Professor McGonagall. I wanted to come to you and let you know that I will be going home for Thanksgiving this evening and that Hermione will be going with me.”

“Is your work completed?”

Harley nodded and then said, “Yes, Professor. I’m done through the end of the semester already.”

“Hermione as well?”

“She was done first, Professor. You know how she is.”

Minerva looked at her and her shoulders slumped as she sighed, “Yes, I do.”

“We will leave at 5, via portkey. We’ll be back on Sunday evening.”

“You know that your classmates are not going to he happy that I’m letting you go home, don’t you?”

Harley looked at her and said, just as her mother had told her to, “Professor, this is a religious holiday for me. I  _ have _ to go home. Hermione is coming with me because she is, for all intents and purposes, my betrothed.”

“I was afraid that you were going to say that. What do I tell the Headmaster when he asks, as he surely will.”

Harley had a ready answer for that too, because her mother had anticipated the question. “Tell him that as First of the Twenty-Eight, that I am exercising my right to leave for religious reasons, as the Hogwarts Charter allows, and that as my soon-to-be-betrothed, Hermione is traveling with me to celebrate the holiday.”

“Do your suite-mates know Hermione’s status?”

Harley nodded. “Yes, professor, they do. They support us and know we’re trying to keep it quiet.”

“You know that 12-year-old girls don’t usually become betrothed, right?”

“Of course I do. I grew up in the States. It’s unheard of there. In fact, if there was a boy involved, MCUSA would flip out.”

“Then why?”

“Professor, have you ever touched a live wire?”

“Once, when I was a very silly little girl.”

“Then you know what it feels like. Now, imagine if you touched something similar, but your magic went crazy the moment you felt it. Imagine touching something that makes your whole body feel pleasure. You can let go, but you absolutely don’t want to, ever.”

Minerva’s eyebrow tried to ascend up into her forehead as she looked at the young Magus. “Now, imagine touching someone who makes you feel so good that you can see your own magic, and hers, or his.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Harley nodded. “Yes. She’s a Magus, like me. And we have already promised ourselves to the other. Hermione will wear my ring before the school year is out.”

“Do what you must, Lady Ross. But I say this: be careful. Albus is no friend of yours.”

“We know. Thank you. Now, I will see you Sunday evening. If you have to get a message to me, send it with one of the elves. They seem to like you.”

Minerva smiled at that. It was truer than the young lady knew.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**In the woods, just off Rocky Lane, Livingston, NY - 2pm (GMT -5)**

Harley and Hermione stepped out of the whirl of magic and into the Living-room of the small house that Harley and Isabelle had shared for almost 10 years. It had become familiar to Hermione during her stay at the end of summer, but it didn’t quite feel like home,  _ yet.  _

_ “ _ Mom!” Harley called out as Isabelle came out of the kitchen.

“Sweetheart!” Isabelle said, as they moved towards each other. Hermione watched the two hug and didn’t know what to feel. That was set aside a moment later when Isabelle reached out and pulled Hermione into a hug as well. “Hi, sweetie. Welcome home.”

Hermione relaxed into Isabelle’s arms and hugged her back. “It’s good to be back. Harley hasn’t stopped talking about your cooking for the last two weeks.”

Isabelle gave her daughter the gimlet eye. “Have you been telling tales?”

Harley shook her head. “’Course not, mom. I did tell her about your Pecan pie and the lime jello, though.”

“Alright, well, you two caught me in the middle of baking, so I’m going to go back to it. Why don’t you two go upstairs and get settled in and we can have a light dinner in a couple of hours.”

Harley grabbed Hermione’s hand and pulled her up the stairs and down the hallway to her bedroom. The moment they were inside, Harley closed the door and magically locked it behind her.

In another moment, she had Hermione in her arms and was kissing her fiercely. Eventually, they fell back onto Harley’s bed; stopping their kiss only long enough to arrange themselves so they were laying side by side, under a blanket. 

When they finally broke for air, Harley couldn’t help but caress her lover’s face. “I love you, Hermione. I’m sorry we haven't gotten a chance to do much at school.”

Hermione snuggled into Harley’s arms and held her close. “It’s alright. Love you too”

****

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

_**Four hours later…**_

"Knock! Knock! Knock!" Harley woke first, feeling more alive and powerful than at any time in her young life. Her magic, which she had always felt as sort of a background presence, was now alive and palpable. It crackled and luminesced all around her. More, she could feel Hermione’s magical presence, warm and comfortable and close. 

_"Knock! Knock! Knock!" _

The sound at her door was more insistent now. Then she remembered that she and Hermione were at home in New York and that it was probably her mother at the door.  _ Oops.  _ Waving a hand at the door, it opened. Isabelle looked in and saw Harley, still lying on the bed, next to her girl.  _ _ The first thing that she noticed was that they were both still dressed  _ thank God _ , she thought. The second thing was that they were glowing.  _ Fuck. _

“I think we need to talk,'' she said. 

Harley looked at her, somewhat confused, and then said, “Ok. Give as a minute.” Hermione was waking up, but she was still warm and feeling snuggly. Isabelle watched as Harley leaned close to Hermione’s head and whispered something. Whatever she said had the girl up and looking around.

Hermione finally looked across the room at Isabelle and smiled in a not-quite-embarrassed kind of way. She had no idea, Isabelle noticed that they were glowing. “Come with me” Isabelle said.

“ _ Are we in trouble?” _ Hermione whispered so quietly that Harley almost didn’t catch it. 

“ _ No idea. Maybe. Not sure.” _ Harley replied as they walked hand-in-hand together, 

“Well, I can’t say that I blame either of you, but you’ve created a new set of problems for yourselves. Bonding, as young as you two are, will set the magical parts of the Kingdom aflame. If you thought that the _Daily Prophet_ was bad before, you’re going to have to get ready for a much tougher go of it… unless we can find a way to diffuse them.”

“Can’t we hide it or something?”

Isabelle shook her head. “ 'Fraid not, love. Being together is only going to reinforce the pair-bond and there’s no way that you’re going to be able to convince me, with straight faces, that you’d somehow be able to suppress your feelings of love for each other, such that you could hide your bond. And even if you could, it wouldn’t be at all healthy for either of you, magically or emotionally. And Harley, love, you know the one rule that I’ve always tried to teach you?”

“Yes, mom. Emotional honesty. Being willing to admit my feelings and not hide them.”

Isabelle nodded. At least that message had gotten through. It was a hard lesson, but it was invaluable for girls. Maturing physically and magically was hard enough without the added burden of the ups and downs of one’s emotions. Emotional honesty was the key to getting through it. Being willing to speak honestly and forthrightly about how you are feeling and about how someone else’s actions have impacted you, Isabelle knew, was critical – because it helped to diffuse strong emotions and kept them from being bottled up, waiting for a moment of explosion. 

It was a lesson that had not come easily to her and she didn’t want to make the mistake of not teaching Harley the lesson from early on in her life. Being magical – and most especially being a burgeoning Magus – made the lesson that much more crucial, since so much of one’s magic was emotionally driven. Powerful emotions combined with vast magical powers was a recipe for terrible consequences. 

“Ok, so we’ve gotten that out of the way. You understand that we’re going to have to deal with this. Now, I want to see the bond. Close your eyes, both of you, and think about your love for each other. Think about protecting each other with your magic. Hold hands or whatever you need to do, but concentrate on your feelings.”

Isabelle watched has her daughter, and her daughter’s betrothed kissed and then wrapped each other up in a hug. The glow of their pair-bond was nearly blinding for a moment.  _ Well… fuck. _

“Ok, I’ve seen enough. You two can back it off now.”

The glow faded but didn’t go away entirely as Hermione crawled into Harley’s lap and put her head on Harley’s chest.  _ I’m getting too old for this shit _ , Isabelle thought to herself.  _ _ Her mind wandered off in a couple of directions before she had an epiphany of sorts.  _ I wonder if I can do that…? It works with spells and charms, so why not this? _

“Harley, Hermione, I want you to do what you did a moment ago. Turn the volume up on your bond and think about each other with love. I’ve got a thought that might just work.”

As they hugged and kissed this time, Isabelle took her wand out and cast two very specific charms. The first one was a magic-masking charm and the second was a feedback charm, so that the glow of the bond itself acted as the power-source for the masking charm. Isabelle hoped that the stronger the glow, the stronger the masking charm would be.

After two minutes, the girls released each other and looked at Isabelle. She nodded. “Alright, I’ve masked the glow such that only another Magus would see it, or a medic with mage-sight. I don’t know how long the masking charm will last. I’m hopeful that it will last until I see you both again at Yule.”

Hermione looked visibly relieved by the news, which made Isabelle feel better about the situation. Not great, but better. She still had to contend with the fact that her daughter was magically bonding to a girl and that there were going to be unforeseen consequences. “I also want you two to be careful with each other. You’re both maturing and I don’t want either of you to pressure the other to be physical before you’re ready. Understand?” The girls nodded. “I know that at some point, you’re going to want to be intimate with each other and at some point, that will be natural and unavoidable. Your magic is probably already pushing you. You’ve got to be really careful though. You could hurt each other tremendously if you do something before you’re ready.”

Harley held Hermione tight in her arms, so that Hermione didn’t have to meet Isabelle’s eyes. “We’ve talked about this, mom. We know we have to be careful. I’m just lucky that she loves me.”

Hermione whispered “More than you know” very quietly, so only Harley could hear her. 

“What are you going to do if Dumbles tries to interrogate you?” Isabelle asked.

“Get our Head-of-House, Rolanda Hooch.”

“And if you can’t get her?”

“Minerva McGonagall or Poppy Pomfrey.”

“Who is your fall-back?” Isabelle pressed.

“Professor Flitwick” Harley answered, knowing her mother’s preference.

“Good then. At least you remember. Now, let’s think about something else. You have between now and Sunday to learn any one piece of magic that you choose. I will teach you anything I know, save for the Unforgiveables.”

Harley whispered in Hermione’s ear and then turned her face so that the two of them could see eye to eye. Isabelle watched as they touched foreheads and talked, very softly. It was clear that the trust between them was deep and strong. Harley said something and Hermione’s eyes lit up and she nodded.

Turning so that she could face her mother again, Harley said, “Snap conjuration”. 

Isabelle looked at her. “Really? Of all the things that you could learn this weekend, you want that?”

“Well, it’s that or blood magic” Harley grinned. “We’d take either.”

“Alright. Neither of you has the mental focus yet to do snap conjuration. It’s very hard to do and I’m not even sure that I can do what I think you’re asking. However, I do know blood magic, since it’s an off-shoot of Runes and ritual magic. Do you both have your Athames with you?”

Harley nodded. “It’s in my room, with my things. Hermione has hers as well.”

“Alright. After dinner, I will teach you the basics of blood magic. Harley, you’ve already learned two of the Runes-sets that I asked you to learn, right?”

“Yes, mom. Last summer, remember?”

“What about you, Hermione?”

“I know the Norse set really well and I’ve been learning the Greek set, but I don’t know them all yet.”

“It’s alright. We’ll start with the Norse set, since that’s the common one to know. There’s the Egyptian set and there’s also the Phoenician group. We’ll leave the Sanskrit set until last, since that’s the hardest group to memorize. Now, it’s time for me to go make dinner. I expect you both back down here in an hour.”

Harley did something that Isabelle couldn’t see and Hermione blushed as she sprang up and headed for the stairs. Isabelle looked at her daughter with the  _ do-I-really-want-to-know-what-you-just-did  _ look and Harley grinned, blushed, and scampered up the stairs, in search of her girl.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Headmaster’s office, Hogwarts, the next morning – Thursday, November 21** **st** **, 1991**

Albus Dumbledore was not a happy man. He hadn’t been for some time and nothing seemed to be getting better. His staff wasn’t talking to him and his deputy was outright disdainful towards him. Worse, his staff had taken to protecting their thoughts, either through Occlumency or via devices. He didn’t know and by right, he could not confront them on it, since using Legilimency was technically illegal when another adult was involved. 

Worse, he had a school full of students who were borderline rebellious. They had seen what two first-year girls could do and they were chaffing for more… much more magical instruction. Beyond those problems, the first through 5 th year potions students were making astonishing strides and were itching for more. Filius Flitwick was at a loss as to what to do next, since his first, second, and third-year students had started casting wordlessly. It made it impossible to know what to teach next!

Pomona Sprout was fine, so she said, since Herbology was such a hands-on area of magical study. Rolanda Hooch was having the time of her life, since she had discovered that all of the first-year students were learning to fly, in their off-hours, from Harley Ross, who was a flying prodigy-to-end-all-prodigies. She giggled, at the last staff meeting, that when she had come out to start her last Wednesday class, she discovered that the students had learned how to  _ sleep on their brooms, while their brooms hovered in the air. _

Rubeus Hagrid was overjoyed as well, since he had been cleared to have a pair of dragons on the school grounds, as gate-guards. He didn’t care about what was going on with his colleagues, in terms of their teaching difficulties, since so little of CoMC involved a wand or active magic. 

David Blight, since he was a squib, didn’t matter. Albus didn’t waste time thinking about him. History of Magic was a course that didn’t matter since, as the thought of it, most magicals were so stupid that they didn’t realize when they were repeating history nor would they care if they did. 

Charity Burbage, the Muggle Studies teacher, had contact with neither Harley Ross nor Hermione Granger, so was irrelevant. Similarly,  Aurora Sinistra – one of Hogwarts’ Astronomy teachers, was useless as far as information was concerned. She had no contact with the two girls and therefore couldn’t affect his plans, one way or the other. 

It was maddening that all of his plans – the ones to control British magical society, the ones to control what was taught at Hogwarts, and the ones to deal with Tom Riddle, were all a mess. The Potters were gone, which left no one to fulfill the prophecy! There was a glimmer of hope, insomuch as Neville Longbottom, one of the two boys born at the end of July 1979, was showing great promise with wandless magic, but not when he had to use his wand. It was odd. Albus wondered if the wand he was using was holding him back and made a note to look into that problem. He saw no reason that the boy shouldn’t have a good, well-matched wand. That was proper for a pure-blood like Neville. Perhaps a wand of English Oak? That might fit. Albus knew he’d have to approach Ollivander about it. There was also that  _ other _ wand that no one had yet claimed. Albus made a not to remind Ollivander to test the boy for that one as well. 

A knock on the door interrupted his thinking. “Come in.”

Minerva stepped through the door and looked at him, but didn’t meet his eyes. “You asked for me, Albus?”

“Good morning, Minerva. Yes, I did. Have a seat.”

“I’ll stand, thank you.” Minerva wasn’t going to make herself any more vulnerable than she already was. Sitting takes away one’s reaction-speed. 

“Suit yourself. What are we doing about a replacement for Quirinius?” 

“We’ve started a search, as you instructed. Given that the DMLE has launched an investigation into how he died, suitable candidates here in the Kingdom are hesitant, to say the least, and we’re starting to look on the continent and in the Colonies. I can’t say that I’m anxious to have another Yank here, but beggars can’t be choosers, either.”

“Surely someone will step forward?”

“Maybe and maybe not. We don’t pay as well as Ilvermorny or Beauxbatons and the climate here is frankly miserable for eight months of the year, so we’re fighting against that too. I’ve looked at the budget and I don’t see a lot of wiggle-room… so, we’re dealing with it as best we can. I’ll let you know if I find someone in the next couple of weeks. Until then, we’re going to have to re-jigger the schedules to keep the students busy and interested. I assume you’ve already heard some of the grumbling?”

“Yes, yes. We do seem to have a challenge right now. Those two little Gryffs seem to be stirring the pot a fair bit.”

Minerva snorted. “Stirring the pot” was an understatement, if she had ever heard one. “Albus, they’re both smarter than you were as a first-year student and yes, I know you think that’s saying something. We’ve all heard about the ‘great Albus Dumbledore’ and your time as a student here, but I’ve looked at your records from your first year and you weren’t tearing it up like those two. They’re doing things that you had never even considered as a firstie.”

Albus looked at her with something like contempt, though he quickly hid it. It was maddening as hell to be laughed at in his own office, and that’s what she was doing, however politely.

He couldn’t help but get his own dig in though. “I think the same could be said of you, Minerva. I don’t remember you being any great shakes as a firstie.”

The conversation, she could feel, was dissolving into an insult-match, and it wasn’t productive for either of them. But she wasn’t going to let his barb go unanswered. “I’m not a Magus, and I know my limits. Perhaps that’s where we differ.” 

Albus looked at her and she could see that he was angry. He took, they all knew, an unhealthy pride in being a Magus. He didn’t know that Harley and Hermione were Magi, she was sure, and it was going to be a rude shock when he discovered it. She looked forward to being a fly on the wall when it happened. 

“Very well then. Keep me informed of your search results. Good day.”

His curt dismissal was enough for her. She backed towards the door, her wand in her hand. She wasn’t going to let him get away with anything and she trusted him as far as she could throw him. She wondered, as she left, about the fact that he never addressed the fact that neither Harley nor Hermione was on the school grounds. Did he know they weren’t there and didn’t care or did he not know and didn’t bother to check?

Albus watched her back out. The insult from the lack of trust was plain in his eyes. Things had taken a bad turn and he wondered as she disappeared down the stairs, what he was going to have to do next, in order to see his vision carried out. He had to find a DADA instructor and fast. Someone who would be loyal to him and him alone. Before Minerva could hire someone, who’d bolster her cadre of supporters within the school and give her another voice in support of removing him. He also had to find a way to cut off the DMLE’s investigation into Quirinius’ death. It would not do to have their investigators poking and prodding all through the school. He had no idea that it was way past too late to stop the investigation.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Deputy Headmistress’ office, Hogwarts, Sunday, November 24** **th** ** 7pm GMT**

Isabelle and Hermione stepped through the floo at precisely 7pm, hand-in-hand. The room was dark, except for a couple of magical wall-sconces. Looking around and not seeing the Deputy Headmistress, Hermione shrugged and said, “Let’s get out of here.”

Harley nodded. There was no reason to stay around. If McGonagall had forgotten about their arrival, that wasn’t their problem. It was time to get up to their door-room and talk about what they had learned and discovered during the holiday weekend. 

“Let’s leave a note, to let her know we’re back.” Hermione said. Harley saw a piece of scrap parchment, with no writing on it, and penned (quilled?) a quick note to her. She added a sticking charm to the back of it and stuck it to Minerva’s desk, so that it would be the first thing that she saw when she sat down. 

“Let’s go.” Hermione said, seeing that the note was done.

The two disappeared down the stairs and out, into the 2 nd -floor corridor, after closing the doors behind them. They were half-way back to Gryffindor house before they ran into anyone, and were able to play it casually, as it they had been in the castle the whole time. 

Unfortunately, the first people they ran into when they climbed inside the portal that led to the Gryffindor common-room were the Weasley Twins. 

Harley looked at them warily. They were known for being trouble-makers, or at least pranksters, and Gryffindor girls generally kept an eye out for them. “Well, what do we have here, Forge?”

“I don’t know Gred, but methinks that it’s Gryffindor’s golden-couple.”

“I think that they don’t know that we know that they were gone, all weekend. Perhaps someone should tell Madame Hooch?”

Harley looked up at George, the elder Weasley twin, since they both towered over her, and lifted her hand. The moment that he felt the pressure closing in about his throat, he panicked and reached for his wand. It was a stupid, but predictable move. Hermione’s wand was up and there was a glowing green blade extending almost a meter from the tip. It crackled and hissed. She pointed it at his heart.

“I think, Fred, that you two need to understand that we will not be bullied and we will not be intimidated or blackmailed.”

Fred looked at his twin brother, who was still struggling against the invisible pressure that held him by the throat, and at the glowing blade that threatened to do very bad things and said, “We surrender.”

George nodded furiously and then felt the pressure around his throat disappear. The glowing sword disappeared as well and George fell forward to his knees. “We… we surrender.”

“Good.” Harley said cheerfully, “I’m happy that we’ve come to this understanding. Now, any other foolish things you’d like to say?”

“No, Lady Ross. Not a single thing.”

“Good. I’m happy that you’re clear as to your place. You can play all the pranks you want on me, but if you even so much as  _ think _ about the merest possibility of touching Hermione, I will castrate you both very, very painfully and send your nads home to your parents in a small box. Are we clear?” she said in sickeningly sweet voice.

“And if you hurt Harley in any way with your pranks, there will be nowhere on Earth that you can go that I will not find you… and then I will hurt you in ways that none of the horrors of Hell can even imagine. Are we clear?” Hermione said quietly, with a voice that promised such pain that not even the Devil himself could endure it.

Both Fred and George nodded, from where they both knelt, and then they stood and ran up the boys’ stairs, faster than they had ever moved before.

They didn’t see the high-five that the two girls exchanged in the aftermath. Not that it mattered, really. The point had been made and the Weasley twins were now onboard with protecting Hermione, if for no other reason that it would keep people in Gryffindor house alive and whole. 

As Hermione and Harley walked up the girls’ staircase, to the top-most floor, conversations were already underway in the third-year boys’ dorm and all of it centered around why it was a great idea to leave Harley and Hermione alone and what might become of someone who disregarded that idea. It would be a conversation repeated in a number of ways, in a number of places around the castle. It would even make it into Slytherin House, where it would eventual run into the gossip surrounding the events after the Wizengamot meeting regarding Harley Ross’ status and right to rule. There it would gain new life as a substantiated Hogwarts rumor. Some would hear the rumor and think it was interesting enough to pass on to others, outside the Castle. Others would hear it and think it a timely warning and, unfortunately, one or two would think it a challenge to overcome. They would become strong candidates for the Darwin Prize for 1992.

The girls in the Castle, on the other hand, would hear the rumors and be impressed by the defensiveness that the two girls had for each other. Some more so than others, of course. It was a forgone conclusion that the first-through-third-year girls in the four houses would fall almost unanimously in favor of the two as a couple. The rest, which meant the forth-through-seventh-year girls, would be curious or approving, but perhaps not outwardly so. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**December 20** **th** ** – Dinner – Great Hall, Hogwarts**

Exams had come to a crashing close for everyone and students were having a late-afternoon meal before getting ready to floo home or take the late-afternoon run of the Hogwarts Express to London. Harley and Hermione were already packed and ready to go, since they were taking a port-key to Heathrow Airport, before boarding a Delta Flight to JFK airport in New York. Hermione didn’t know that Harley had booked first-class, executive seats for the two of them, but was looking forward to seeing the look on her face when they boarded the airplane. It would be Harley’s second flight ever, and she was excited.

As had become tradition, Harley and Hermione were surrounded by first through third-year girls from all the houses. Everyone hoped that the two would show them just one more bit of new magic before they went home for the holidays. Hermione, of course, expected it, and had prepared a bit of a show. 

She looked around and grinned. Taking out a fairly large leather bag, out of her travelling bag, Hermione dumped the contents on the table. It was a substantial pile of highly polished metal disks. “Alright, everyone, one last thing before Harley and I go home for Yule. I had Harley talk to a banker-friend of ours who was willing to do us a favor. These disks” and she held one up so everyone could see it, “Are Galleon-weight pieces of a rare-earth metal called Palladium. It is not, intrinsically, a magical metal. However, it can be made to hold a magical charge for a fairly long while and it is transfigurable. Everyone clear on that?”

There were nodding heads all around. “I’m going to let Harley take over the demonstration, since this was something she actually created.”

Harley smiled at everyone as she stood up on the bench, so that she could be seen easily. “Alright, so as you know, pretty much everything can be transfigured, once you hit it with enough heat. We showed that to you all the last time, right?”

Everyone nodded and smiled. “Ok, so, what we’re going to do this time is show you how to take that transfiguration and blend it into an animation, so that it looks like one smooth motion. Now, everyone take a coin”. Harley watched as Hermione handed them out – more than 60 of them – until there were no more. Some people were disappointed that they didn’t get one, but they were at the back edge of the growing audience and weren’t able to reach in and get handed one. “If you didn’t get one, see us afterwards and we’ll get you one for when we come back, ok?”

“Now, take out your wands and levitate the coin in front of you, at eye-level, so that you can see it clearly. I know some of you can do that part without a wand, but you’re going to need one for this second part.”

When everyone had taken out his or her wand, Harley continued, “Ok, now levitate the coin and hit it with a strong heating charm. You want that coin to be really, really hot, so that you can transfigure it and then do the next part after that.”

She looked around and saw that pretty much everyone had heated his or her coin. “Good. Very good. Now keep it floating, good and hot. Now, here’s the tricky part. You have to imagine the coin as a small, silvery, flying bird. Everyone have that image? Focus on the image. Think about what you would see if it were all silvery and flying. Really concentrate. Now… take ahold of your magic, like we showed you, and push that image at the coin. Remember, magic is about will. Think about that silvery bird, flying around you. It wants to stay near you. Make it fly. Let it fly!”

There were gasps all around as suddenly, more than twenty little, silvery birds took wing and started flying around their creators. “Good! Focus. See that silvery bird, focus on the bird, in your mind. Let your magic do the work.”

Harley and Hermione looked around. They could see that a couple of students were struggling with it. Harley went to two of them and Hermione went the other way, to talk to the other three. After quick, quiet words of encouragement and direction, everyone was watching as his or her own small, silvery bird flew around them. 

“To cancel the transfiguration, just will it to stop, and it will return to being a coin. If not, you can cast a permanence charm on it, which I know that Professor Flitwick taught everyone, and it will fly until the magic wears off.”

Once everyone had had his or her fill of watching the little birds, fly, there was a huge round of applause for the two girls. Harley took Hermione’s hand and, hand-in-hand, they stood on the bench and curtsied to the group.

“That was fun” Hermione whispered to Harley, as everyone took up eating and talking amongst themselves. 

“Did you see the look on Minerva’s face?” Hermione asked quietly.

“No. Too busy watching everyone try the magic. Why? Was she mad?”

Hermione giggled. “Steaming. So is Dumbles. I saw him sitting there and you could tell that he wants to stab us both with his knife or fork.”

“It’s his own fault and I know my mother is not going to feel sorry for him. If they were teaching us at the pace that we need, then we wouldn’t have time to look up everything, but as it is… well, I’m not sorry.”

“I’m not either, sweetie. It’s not our fault and I don’t feel the least bit sorry that we’ve shared some magic. I thought that was what we’re supposed to do.”

Hermione reached over and picked up a dinner-roll and buttered it. It was the easiest way for her to be able to keep an eye on the teacher’s table while not looking like she was doing so. Of course, she wasn’t alone. Harley was watching too. And so were a number of their first-and-second-year friends who were sitting around them. Harley didn’t really see it, but there were girls on either side of them, 8 people deep in either direction. The boys, either by willful acceptance or by default, had yielded the area around the two girls, so that Harley and Hermione were surrounded by their friends and supporters. 

The teachers saw it though and thought about what they were seeing. It was a ring of protection around the two and it seemed to ward off those who would mock them or otherwise harass them. It was happening at almost every meal and it put the two in a clear spotlight, even if, at least most of the time, the two ignored it. 

Minerva leaned over to Poppy Pomfrey and said, quietly, “the two queens in their court.”

Poppy nodded. “And they know it, even if they don’t care. They know that we know and they’re wondering what we’re thinking about it. They’re watching us for a reaction.”

That caught Minerva off-guard. “Oh?”

Poppy nodded again, but barely perceptibly. “I’ve caught Hermione’s eyes twice. She’s watching us and she’s ready to do something about it if pushed. Her wand is right at her hand.”

Minerva felt a hard lump settle in her stomach. Even if she had no desire to do anything untoward to the girls, she didn’t like the fact that they were so ready to act. She knew  _ exactly _ how dangerous the girls were, given who Harley’s mother was, and the amount of magic that the girls had inherited. “That’s not good.”

“No, it’s not, and Albus started this, Minnie.”

Minerva thought about that and couldn’t disagree. The question was what, if anything, they could do about it. She needed to have more support before she acted. A lot more support. 

Her thoughts were cut off when Poppy said to her, “Come to my office tonight, Minnie. 10pm. There’s something I need to show you.”

Minerva nodded, also very briefly, and then turned back to her meal. There was a great deal to think about. 

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**December 20, 1991 – Delta Flight DL2 –UK airspace – sometime after 5:30pm GMT**

Hermione Dagworth-Granger sat back in the plushest airplane seat she had ever experienced. FIRST CLASS! She couldn’t believe it. She had never, ever imagined that she’d get to travel in such luxury. She looked around and saw people whom she recognized. A British politician in the third row; a TV actress next to him. An Olympic athlete in the row behind them! She was amazed. And then she giggled.  _ They must wonder who I am, to be traveling with another young girl, happily seated in first-class. _ She held Harley’s hand and smiled at her love. “I love you. Do I dare ask how much this costs?”

Harley giggled. “One small diamond I found in the back corner of one of my vaults.”

“Seriously? That’s all?”

“Yup… and you’re going to die when you hear this… I discovered that I can make diamonds all day long. Just give me charcoal that’s on fire and I can turn it into diamond. It’s just one more example of how Gamp’s third law was totally wrong.”

“Seriously?”

Harley reached down into their shared bag and wiggled her hand around for a moment. Finally, she pulled it out and there was a small, black, silk bag with a red draw-string. “Take a look.”

Hermione took the small bag and untied the draw string, before slipping a couple of fingers down, into the bag. Her eyes grew big when she felt something cold and round. She pulled it out and looked at it, with the dull, overhead light of the plane. It was, at least it appeared to be, a 10 to 20-carat brilliant, white, oval-cut diamond. It was the size of her entire thumbnail! “Oh my god. You  _ made _ this?”

“Uh huh. I’ll show you how to do it. It’s not hard. What do you think that’s worth?”

“Seriously? If no one else learns how to do it? Probably two or three thousand galleons.”

“I meant in Pounds.” Harley replied.

“Oh. Ten or twelve thousand pounds.”

“That’s what I figured. And you and I can make them all day long.”

Hermione giggled. “I’d say, ‘we’re going to be rich’ but then I remember, I’m already rich. What are we going to do?”

Harley looked at her, before leaning in and kissing her softly. “We’re doing to exactly whatever the fuck we want to do, sweetie. We’re rich, we’re young, we’re powerful, and we’re free to study and do anything we want.”

Hermione held the diamond up and looked at it closely. It was gorgeous. She couldn’t believe that Harley had figured out how to actually  _ make _ it, but she didn’t doubt her financé. “I love it, Harley. Is this one mine?”

“If you want it. There are others, some bigger, some smaller. I thought maybe… I’d make you a ring?”

Hermione stared at her. Then she said, very quietly… “Are you asking me…?”

Harley nodded. “We don’t have to do anything for  _ years _ , love, but I don’t want anyone to mistake how much I love you. I want my life to be with you. Will you?”

Hermione started crying, and then she got out, “Yes!” before she couldn’t say anything more and had to use several tissues. 

A stewardess leaned over and looked at Hermione and saw that she was crying. “Is everything alright, Miss?”

Hermione smiled through her tears and nodded. She held up the diamond and showed it to the stewardess. The woman looked at it and her eyes goggled. “Is that real?”

Hermione nodded. “Harley just asked me…. She asked me to marry her! And I said yes.”

For a moment, the stewardess’ jaw flapped and nothing came out. Finally, she looked at Harley and saw her eyes radiating power. She had no idea that she was looking at magic, right in front of her, but something deep-down told her that the young woman was actually serious. The word “congratulations” slipped out somehow, but nothing else seemed to be able to join it. 

The stewardess eventually broke the fog that had engulfed her and she stumbled away. “I think you broke her, Harley” Hermione said, laughing.

“She’ll get over it.”

“Meanie!”

“No, I’m not!” Harley protested with a smile. Really, she was intending to give the stewardess a diamond of her own. She had a small bag full of them and she could make as many more as she felt she had the energy to do.

“Pick one out and we’ll give it to her, to make up for you being a meanie.”

“Ok, ok. You win, love. You pick out the right one and when she comes back, I’ll give it to her.”

Hermione snuggled close to Harley, content in knowing that they were going to have a future together. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Six hours later, in the magical concourse at JFK. GMT -5 hours (6:00 pm EST)**

Hermione and Harley moved quickly and quietly through the terminal, to find the outbound floo. It was a mob-scene and neither one of them wanted to be recognized or cause a scene. Two girls, traveling together, wouldn’t be at all odd in the Muggle world, but in the magical world, it was still unusual and caused more than a few raised eyebrows. 

“Let’s move, Hermione. I don’t like the looks we’ve been getting.”

Hermione had her sneakers on and was dressed to move, so she kept her hand on her wand and stayed right by Harley’s side as they moved towards the outbound floo ports. Harley kept her head on a swivel, looking all around her and making sure that Hermione was just ahead of her. She knew that if the shit hit the fan, she had a better chance of surviving than Hermione did. 

There were definitely eyes on them. Harley could feel them. She didn’t know who it was, but she was sure they were being watched. “Hermione, we’re being watched. You need to move!”

“What’s the address?”

“In the woods, just off Rocky Lane, Livingston, New York”

Hermione repeated it back, to make sure. 

“You go first, Hermione”

“No!”

“YES. NO arguments. Just go. I’ll protect you.”

Hermione knew that she shouldn’t argue. She grabbed a handful of floo-powder and threw it in. She spoke very clearly, stepped in and disappeared.

Harley ignited her sword. She was expecting trouble and it didn’t disappoint. Someone, from her left side, came up fast, to try to make a grab at her. Her strong-side hand came up and the man’s arm came off at the shoulder. She swung back down and the body fell in three more parts. Faster than she thought possible, she grabbed some floo powder, threw it in, said the address, and dove for the green fire. 

The moment that she tumbled out, she looked around to make sure she was in the right place. She grabbed the red powder, threw it into the fire and yelled a password that was known to only two people – her and Isabelle. There was a huge  _ swoosh _ as a column of red fire shot up the chimney; effectively cutting off the house from that means of entry. It was a desperate move, but it would keep anyone from following her through the floo system.

“Hermione!” Harley yelled. “MOM!”

Hermione came running into the room, along with Isabelle. “Mom! Someone tried to attack me as I was about the enter the floo at JFK. I cut him into pieces. I dove through the floo and now I’ve cut off the house from anyone following me. I hope that’s enough for now.”

“Well, fuck. I can’t say that I didn’t expect something like this to happen, but I’m sorry you had to take a life. Any idea who it was?”

Harley shook her head. “Tall. Beard, wizard’s robes. No idea on age. White guy. That’s all I saw. I was trying to get away.”

“Damn. Oh well. This house wasn’t going to be forever. I always knew that. This just speeds that up. Ok. So, here’s what we’re going to do. Go start packing the upstairs. Everything. I’ll do everything down here. Teach Hermione the packing spell if she doesn’t already know it. When you’re finished, come back down here. We’ll set up another ward, that will make people forget this house. Then we’ll leave. I have the car. We should be able to be in Canada by 9. Once we’re across the border, we’ll find a motel for the evening. Tomorrow we’ll drive to our new home. I think you’ll like it. You’ll not be able to see your friends here for a while, but I suspect that you knew that.”

Harley was sad about that, but she never expected to see them again anyway, since she was going off to Hogwarts and her friends were going to either Ilvermorny or the Salem Academy.  _ Wish I had collected on that last ice cream though! _ She thought to herself. 

They moved upstairs and quickly got going on packing up Harley’s things. Hermione took great pleasure in looking through all of Harley’s clothes, seeing what her fiancée liked to wear when she wasn’t at school. 

Harley watched her for a moment. She supposed that she’d do the same thing, if she could see Hermione’s bedroom. “We’ve got to get going, love. I’ll show you everything when we get to the new house, ok?”

Hermione stopped and realized what she was doing. “Sorry love. I’d not gotten a chance really look before.”

“I know. But we’ve got to move. My mother has enemies and now I’ve killed someone, and they’re going to be hunting for us. We’ve got to get out of here.” Hermione nodded.

Fifteen minutes later, everything was packed and shrunk down, so that they could put it all into Hermione’s travel bag. They were leaving some things behind, like Harley’s old bed and the chair and desk, which had been old when they had picked them up off the side of the road. Harley didn’t mind. She didn’t really have sentimental attachments to the furniture. She knew that she could buy more and better and that being attached to  _ things _ didn’t make much sense in the long-term. 

Once the girls were back downstairs, Harley looked around. There wasn’t a lot that they needed. They’d get a Yule tree for the new house, she was sure, and make a proper new home. Until then though, they had to move. 

“Ready?”

“Ready, mom.”

“Ready, mom” Hermione said. 

“Let’s go then. The car is hidden in the woods, on the other side of the forest. Go grab your broom and mine, Harley and we’ll go. Hermione, you can ride with Harley. We don’t have to go fast, but we do have to go. Whomever attacked you Harley is going to be trying to get around the floo-block.”

Harley went out the door around the side of the house, where the broom locker was. She spoke the password and opened it up. The two brooms were good. Harley’s was a Nimbus 1700 and her mother’s was a Cleansweep 11. They weren’t top-of-the-line, professional Quidditch brooms, but they would get them where they needed to go. She grabbed them and then went around to the front of the house. After building and activating the ward to make people forget the house, Isabelle looked at them. “Let’s go. I’m getting nervous and I think it’s time to leave.”

Hermione saw Harley mount the broom and then got on behind her. Isabelle mounted hers and they were off. She moved off to the north, moving faster than Harley expected. Harley gave chase. She knew that they could be running out of time and didn’t want to get into a running magical battle, especially on brooms. 

Isabelle flattened herself out and put on speed, so Harley leaned close to the broom and followed. She couldn’t move as fast because she was carrying Hermione, but she willed the broom to move with all the speed that it had and it seemed to help. Five minutes later, they were landing. Isabelle waved her wand and a metal shed appeared. There was a garage door, which Isabelle opened manually. Inside was a brand new, red, 1991 Ford Taurus Wagon. It had lots of space inside and it looked solid. She took out her keys and went into the shed to start the car and back it out. “Back seat, both of you.”

The girls complied quickly enough, after shrinking both brooms and storing them in Hermione’s bag. It was a roomy car, especially in the back seat, and the girls snuggled together happily enough.

Isabelle looked into the rear-view mirror and saw the happy expression on her daughter’s face. She wondered when the reality of having killed someone was going to hit her, if at all. She hoped it did, for Harley’s sake. Being able to take a life with indifference was not a good thing. 

As they reached the highway, Isabelle looked at her daughter once more and found that both girls were sound asleep.  _ Well, that’s not a bad thing. I’ll get us to Canada and our new house and they’ll get some rest. God knows, they need it. _

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**Same day, Office of the Overlord, Gringotts-Chicago – 7pm, Central standard time.**

The Overlord of Gringotts-Chicago was not a pleasant Goblin. In many respects, he was a Vogon, but much shorter, and with more money and more teeth. Crass, irascible, crude to the point of ridiculousness, and cannibalistic in ways that made even the most hardened Gringotts guard nervous. It was a trait that Ragnok despised and rallied against. Killing one’s enemies was one thing, but  _ eating them? _ That was ridiculous. Humans on the other hand… they were delicious. 

_ Knock, knock.  _ The large brass knocker clanged twice against the large, reinforced doors. 

“Come in” 

The Senior Teller of the Day, who was the  _ de facto _ Daytime Operations Manager for Gringotts-Chicago, entered the large, ornate office and walked up to the desk, before dropping to one knee and waiting.

“Rise, Telegrog. What brings you to my office.”

“Sire, we have a report back from our operatives in New York. One of our humans spotted the offspring of our hated enemy in the magical concourse at JFK Airport. He tried to grab her, so that we could use her against our Enemy.”

“Your next hesitation could cost you dearly, Telegrog”

“Yes, Sire. Our human operative was killed, Sire. He was cut into three pieces by our Enemy’s child. Indications are that he never saw it coming and that it happened so fast that our Enemy’s child was able to get away cleanly. As soon as I heard word that he had failed to grab her, I dispatched teams to try to trace the floo transit, but they were wholly unsuccessful. The receiving-end floo had been magically destroyed or blocked somehow, and our forces weren’t able to determine the final destination. Unfortunately, our Enemy has gotten away, along with her child, and the path has gone cold.”

“Do any of our sources inside MCUSA have anything for us?”

“Yes, Sire. They have determined that, in fact, it was our hated Enemy’s child who did the killing and that she did it in what they call self-defense. They will not help us find her, saying that they have no legal grounds to do so and that their treaty with us does not obligate them to help. They also remind us that if any of our operatives are found to have committed murder within their jurisdiction, that they will prosecute those persons for murder, which is a capital crime.”

“Bah! Ugly bags of mostly water! They dare tell us what we can and cannot do?”

“Yes Sire, they do. And you know that even if we outnumber them, they have their Muggle counterparts to call on, and they outnumber us more than 3500 to 1, with a weapons-advantage that we can never, ever match. I have seen the Muggle weapons-tests and they are terrifying.”

The Overlord looked at him and said, “What do you mean, terrifying?”

“Sire, the Muggles literally have the capacity to destroy the whole world and all the life on it. They have weapons so fierce and terrible that they can destroy all of Chicago, and all the places around it, in the blink of an eye. They can kill not by the thousands, but by the tens of millions.”

The Overlord thought about that. He had heard rumors that such was the case, but he had never truly believed it. Now it seemed that those early reports were true. What did that mean for the Goblins of Chicago? “Do they threaten our homeland?”

“Sire, they have weapons so dangerous that they could kill every Goblin in the homeland before we knew it was happening. They can make diseases that target  _ only _ Goblins. They have odorless, colorless toxic gasses that kill within moments if sprayed into our cities and caves. That have bombs that could destroy our homelands in the blink of an eye. They have things called rifles and “machine guns” that could cut down hundreds if not thousands of loyal soldiers in moments. So, yes, they are an existential threat. Also, there are three hundred and fifty million Americans and worldwide, there are billions of humans. Stopping them is like trying to hold back the sun.”

“Do they know about us?”

“Yes, Sire. The uppermost parts of their government do know about us. They know about magic, even if they keep it very, very secret. The good news is that they’ve voted to leave us strictly alone, unless we give them a reason not to do so. However, there are some in the current government who are not keen to have us here. They’re the minority of the minority, but they do exist.”

“What about our Enemy? Do we know what she wants?”

“Sire, based on the fact that she hasn’t moved against us at all in more than ten years and has, in fact, dropped off the map, my best guess is that she just wants to be left alone. I suspect, though I cannot prove it, that her actions against us originally were based on her perception of her duty to the Horde in London, and not based in personal or familial animus. I think, though I cannot prove it, that if you leave her alone, she will leave you alone. I know there is no profit in dying for no reason.”

The Overlord thought about that. There wasn’t, in fact, any profit to be had in dying for no reason. And it was true that between that terrible, bloody day and today, not a single one of his operatives had been lost to the Enemy. She was a strange Enemy to have though. Terrible to face. Horrible to have hunting you. She was unrelenting in her madness. She killed more than two thousand of his soldiers and staff in her effort to get to  _ him _ , but she was peaceful when confronted with women and children. During the entire attack, she never executed a fallen Gringotts soldier. She let the wounded live… both of them. That wasn’t how other Goblins operated. That wasn’t even how the Centaurs fought, or even the High Elves. Not one of  _ them _ gave mercy. 

He wondered what was going to happen as a consequence of his agent’s action. Would she act? Or was the death of their operative enough blood spilled? Parents, no matter the species, tended to lash out when their offspring were threatened. Would their Enemy lash out now or would she just disappear? It was impossible to say. The last time they underestimated the Enemy, she came and found them… and wasn’t done killing until it was clear to her that they had surrendered. But… they had given her clear cause that time. This time was different, wasn’t it? Her child had defended herself and fled, along with her companion. What did that mean? 

“Double the guards for the next week. I want everyone screened. We will close the bank if we have to, but we will not lose an entire staffing group again. This is my will.”

“Yes, Sire. Your Will be Done!”

The Overlord of Gringotts-Chicago sat back and thought. He wondered what it would be like not to have to worry about having  _ her _ hunting them; threatening their very existence. What if it truly was just a matter of leaving her alone? Could it be that simple?

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**Same day, 10pm GMT… Office of Poppy Pomfrey, Hogwarts Castle**

Minerva McGonagall crept into the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts. Literally. She was a Kneazle Animagus and could scale the sides of buildings if she had to. Tonight was one of those nights. She very desperately did not want to be seen by any of the Headmaster’s watchers. 

She was glad that Poppy had left one of the lower windows open, because it made coming up the side of the Castle that much easier. She jumped in from about eight feet up, which was a short jump for a Kneazle, and landed on all four paws, before resuming her human form. 

From the corner, a voice came. “Minnie?”

“Ajax”

“Thunder” came the reply. It was a unique identifier that the two shared, that had been left over from the first Blood War against Grindelwald. It still worked, since it was known to only these two. 

Minnie closed the distance and found her friend, shaking.

“He’s still alive, Minnie. He’s still alive.”

A very, very cold weight formed in the pit of Minerva McGonagall’s stomach. There was only one person who could bring such fear to her voice.

“Are you absolutely sure?”

Poppy nodded. “Come with me. I have something to show you.”

Poppy stood and walked towards her office. However, instead of entering her office, she took out her wand and tapped three points around the perimeter of her office doorway. The doorway changed colors, which startled Minerva. Poppy opened the door and disappeared through it. Literally. 

_ Weird _ , Minerva thought. 

She took a deep breath and walked through. The moment that she did so, she realized that she was no longer in Hogwarts.

The room that she entered was… clearly not used for medicine. In fact, it looked very much like a coven-circle. Center-stone? Check. Sacrifice table? Check. Runes circle? Check. Yup. It was a coven-circle alright. The question was… whose? 

“Minnie, follow me.”

Minerva looked up and saw Poppy, who was now wearing an ornate, white robe, with the sign of Asclepius on the chest. A flood of questions came to her, but she suppressed them, given that she really didn’t know where she was or what was going on. 

Minerva followed Poppy down several corridors, until they came to a room that wasn’t unlike the Headmaster’s office, except for the presence of a Phoenix and unexplained magical knick-knacks. The desk was different as well. This one was more an oval, surrounded by chairs. Off to one side  _ was _ something Minerva recognized. How such a large Pensieve got here, she didn’t know, but this one was one of the largest, if not the largest, that she had ever seen. 

A woman; a very, very, very old woman, swept into the room with power, wearing an ornate, green robe, like the one Poppy was wearing, but more ornate. Minerva immediately recognized that this woman was in charge. But… in charge of what?

The woman spoke softly, “Welcome  Hygieia . Whom have you brought to us today?”

“My Lady, this is the Lady Minerva McGonagall, of Clan McGonagall, and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. She wears the Victoria Cross for her actions against Grindelwald. For that action, and others, she wears the American’s Medal of Honor. She wears the Order of Merlin, First Class, for her actions during the Bombing of London, and the Légion d'honneur for her efforts in saving the lives of countless thousands of Parisians during the Invasion of France. She is the most honorable woman I know and I bring her because she needs to know what we’ve discovered.”

The woman in the green cloak looked at her with an old face, but a look that showed something akin to wonderment. “I don’t… I don’t even know what to say. I’ve met heroes before, but none who’ve distinguished themselves over and over again. I am certain though that I am not worthy of being in your presence.”

Minerva blushed and felt a tear starting to form. The woman’s words were heartfelt and spoke with reverence and she could feel it. “Thank you. I never tried to do anything but the right thing.”

The woman nodded. “Isn’t that always the way it is? We never expect to be caught up in things and by the time that we think about what’s going on, something wonderful or terrible has happened.”

“Now, daughter, tell me what it is that we need to show our honored guest.”

“She needs to see the memory that I sent to you and to my sisters.”

“And why must she see it?”

“It is one of her charges from whom the memory came, and the other is its victim. If she can’t see the memory, she can’t know what must be done to guard against it.”

The old woman nodded. “I agree. Summon the memory and let us see it.”

Poppy moved off to an alcove, where she heard the woman speaking to someone. There were foot-steps moving off down a corridor; the sounds of a door opening and closing. Silence. Quiet heartbeats passed. A door opened and then closed again. Footsteps drawing closer. A young woman in pale grey approached the woman in green and handed her something. 

“I have the memory. Come, let us gather around the Pensieve and watch what was seen.”

The three of them stood around the Pensieve. The memory was added and they fell into it. Since it wasn’t a very long memory, they watched it three times.

After they had withdrawn from the Pensieve, Minerva looked at Poppy and at their host. “I had always wondered what had happened. Now we know. The bastard is alive and he’s using soul-anchors to keep himself viable. Somehow, somewhere he has one or more of the cursed things. We’ve got to find them and destroy them.”

“We’ve got to search Hogwarts. I’ll bet anything there’s one there.”

“His followers. I’ll bet anything that  _ if  _ he made more than one, it’s in a vault at Gringotts.”

The woman in green looked at her two guests. “Seven. The bastard has made seven of them.”

Poppy looked at their host with horror. “How can you be sure?”

“One… we saw fly out the window. The second was in the girl. That means there are at least three. Three’s not a great number though, and neither is five. The most magically stable and powerful is Seven.”

It was horrifying. It meant that the Dark Lord had split his soul into so many pieces that he was down to one piece that represented one one-hundred-and-twenty-eighth of his soul. Even with the piece from the boy added back in, he would have no more than a sixtieth of his soul intact. 

Both Poppy and Minerva took deep breaths. Soul jars were the blackest, most foul pieces of magic on Earth. To violate the creation of ones’ own soul? Unspeakable. The most heinous magic that anyone could ever do. “He can’t be sane” Poppy said, as an observation.

“Certainly not. Not after that. He’s got to be stopped.”

“Does the girl know?” Their host asked.

“With her permission, I’ve bespelled her. The memory is hidden so that no one, save for me, can access it. I did it to keep his unreasonably large nose out of it.” Poppy said.

“Good.” Minerva said, assuming that her colleague meant he-of-the-too-many-names. “This information needs to be shared. Croaker, in the Department of Mysteries, needs to know. So does Amelia Bones. The Supreme Mugwump of the IWC needs to know as well.”

“It will be done” the old woman said. I assure you of that.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s time to go, Minnie. I will lead you out. I must remain here, for we have business to do that doesn’t involve the school.”

Minerva nodded and followed her colleague to the entrance. They shook hands and Minerva stepped through. She found herself in the infirmary, remembering what she had seen, but not how she had gotten there. It was very odd, but she was safe and she didn’t feel like she had been bespelled, so she resumed her Kneazle form and headed for the open window. It was time to get to bed.

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	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pursuant to the [ Berne Convention Implementation Act of 1988](https://www.govtrack.us/congress/bills/100/hr4262) and the [Digital Millennium Copyright Act of 1998, 17 U.S.C. §§ 512, 120 1–1 205](https://www.copyright.gov/reports/studies/dmca/dmca_executive.html), this work is copyrighted 2007 with all rights expressly reserved by its author unless explicitly granted. No portion may be reproduced in any fashion, or hosted on any website, without the express written and notarized permission of the author. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own rights to any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of Joanne K Rowling, © 2003, to whom I am deeply indebted. The Harry Potter series is property of Joanne K. Rowling, and Arthur A. Levine Books, Inc., a division of Scholastic Press, Inc., © 2003. I make no money from any of this. WHATEVER CREATIVE MATERIAL IS LEFT IS MINE.
> 
> CONTENT Disclaimer: This story may contain sexually graphic and explicit material and as such, it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now, as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. These stories are just that, stories, and do not promote or condone the activities described herein

****

**A New Dawn  
Book I  
Chapter 7  
By ‘the_scribbler’  
[the_scribbler (at) shadowgard (d*t) com](mailto:the_scribbler@shadowgard.com)**

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**From Chapter VI…**

Both Poppy and Minerva took deep breaths. Soul jars were the blackest, most foul pieces of magic on Earth. To violate the creation of ones’ own soul? Unspeakable. The most heinous magic that anyone could ever do. “He can’t be sane” Poppy said, as an observation.

“Certainly not. Not after that. He’s got to be stopped.”

“Does the girl know?” Their host asked.

“With her permission, I’ve bespelled her. The memory is hidden so that no one, save for me, can access it. I did it to keep _ his _ unreasonably large nose out of it.” Poppy said.

“Good.” Minerva said, assuming that her colleague meant he-of-the-too-many-names. “This information needs to be shared. Croaker, in the Department of Mysteries, needs to know; so does Amelia Bones. The Supreme Mugwump of the IWC needs to know as well.”

“It will be done” the old woman said. I assure you of that.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s time to go, Minnie. I will lead you out. I must remain here, for we have business to do that doesn’t involve the school.”

Minerva nodded and followed her colleague to the entrance. They shook hands and Minerva stepped through. She found herself in the infirmary, remembering what she had seen, but not how she had gotten there. It was very odd, but she was safe and she didn’t feel like she had been bespelled, so she resumed her Kneazle form and headed for the open window. It was time to get to bed.

****

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**December 20, 1991 - 10:30 pm, EST, 1.25 miles east of New York / Quebec border at Highway 89 / Route 133. **

Isabelle rolled down the dark road, to a point several hundred feet south of the single street-lamp, in a place that was still quite dark. She shut off the motor and turned off the lights. It took several minutes to rouse Harley and Hermione, since they were fast asleep. They woke up cold as well, since they had been cuddling under a blanket and they were irritated. It was a cold evening, though the wind wasn’t blowing, and Isabelle wasn’t having any better time of it than the girls were, but she knew that they had to get across the border and do it quickly and quietly.

It took a ‘Mom-glare’ to get Harley to a cooperative mood, but once that was done, she pitched in and got out the two brooms, as well as their jackets, and prepare to do whatever else her mother asked. “I’m going to shrink the car down now, so that we can get across the border. We’re going to be flying just off the ground, since we can’t afford to be spotted. DO NOT let your feet touch the ground anywhere until I tell you that it’s ok. Understand?”

The girls both nodded. They had done this sort of thing at Hogwarts; just barely skimming above the loch. “Now, stand still both of you. I’m going to dampen your magical signatures, and then have you do mine. I’m hoping that if there are magical sensors anywhere in the area, we’ll be able to get past them. We don’t need to authorities to know we’re here. Clear?” “The spell for this is **** ”. Harley, practice it on Hermione, and Hermione, you do the same to her. If it works, you’ll stop feeling her magical presence. I know that you know _ that _ well enough to know if the spell has worked or not.”

The two girls looked at her, nodded, and got on with it. It took them two tries to get it right. Then they did it to Isabelle. When she was satisfied that they were ready, she mounted her broom. “Remember, don’t let your feet touch the ground! We need to be far enough from the border that any sensors don’t pick us up. Now, follow me.”

In the moonlight, they could see decently enough, once their eyes adjusted. They followed her down a dirt road, which ran along a creek. There was forest as well as fields on both sides of the road, but it was mostly forest. The night was quiet, except for the Barred Owls calling in the distance. The closer they got to the border, the more that they could feel it. There were sensors all around them. Harley and Hermione were doubly-careful to stay far enough off the ground that their feet could not touch, but not so high that they could be seen by people. Not that there was anyone around, but it paid to be careful. At the end of the road, there was a compound, with several large buildings. Isabelle signaled them, silently, to follow her along the perimeter of the compound, just skirting the trees. It was tough flying. Twice, Harley and Hermione almost hit branches that would have unseated them. They had to veer sharply to the right, at Isabelle’s panicked direction, and double-back, to go around the other side of the largest building in the compound. They followed her as she crossed a field for several hundred yards and then took one swift left-hand turn and took off at top speed.

Harley copied the move as best she could and then did her level-best to wring every bit of speed that she could out of her broom. It was a desperate effort and they barely caught up to Isabelle, more than a mile north of where they had taken the left-hand turn. Isabelle finally landed and turned to watch Harley and Hermione approach and then do the same. “Let’s get out of here.”

Harley nodded. She shrank the brooms and put them into Hermione’s travel bag. Just as she was closing it up, Isabelle finished restoring the car to its proper size. “Climb in. We have about another hour to go before we stop for the night. There’s a town ahead and I’m going to stop and get some coffee. After that, we should be fine. I want you both to know that I am very proud of you. You did exactly what I asked and did it without question. We’re safe, or at least as safe as I can make us. Let’s undo the masking charms though, eh?”

Isabelle cancelled the charms on Harley and Hermione and then they returned the favor. It felt really good to be able to feel Hermione’s presence again, Harley thought, though she didn’t say it.

“Climb in. Let’s get going.”

The girls happily climbed into the car and they were off. 

****

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**4pm, December 22, 12 Forest Lane, Colgate, UK**

Miranda Granger was home from work early and it felt good. She was horny as hell and couldn’t wait for her husband, Jake, to get home. It was getting close to Christmas and she was hoping to make a new baby for Christmas – and practice made perfect. She was looking forward to doing a _ lot _ of practicing during the holidays! The butt-plug in her bottom had gotten her thoroughly worked up during the day; so much so that she had had to take a break during her work-day and make herself cum in the private lady’s room. The thought of it made her mind wander and eventually those thoughts turned towards her daughter, Hermione. A more precocious girl you could not find. So much so that she wondered how her girl was doing… most particularly in her relationship with the insanely beautiful Harley Ross. A rustle of wings caught her up short. A gorgeous Barn Owl had flown in the open door and landed on the back of one of the chairs. It was holding a tightly rolled scroll in one of its claws.

“Oh, hello you. Would you like a treat?”

The owl seemed to understand her and bobbled its head. Miranda fetched a piece of bacon from the ice-box that was left over from their breakfast. She handed it to the owl, who took it and polished it off happily. “Now, is that scroll for me?”

The owl hooted softly and lifted the scroll up so that Miranda could untie it from its leg. “Thank you, sweetie. If you need water, just hoot once. If you need more food, hoot twice. Otherwise, have a great flight home, ok?”

The owl didn’t say anything but snapped its bill once and lifted off; flying out the door to a nearby tree, where it promptly went to sleep.

“Well, that was interesting. Now, who’s sent me a scroll?” Miranda undid the wax seal and then unraveled it. Stretching it out on the table, she read,

**21 December 1991**

**Dearest Mom:**

** I’m sorry that I haven’t had a chance to write to you in a couple of days. Things have been kind of crazy. I’m with Harley, as you might have guessed, and we’re in Canada now. I can’t tell you where, specifically, since the secret is protected by magic. We had to leave Harley’s old home, since she was attacked at the JFK Airport on our way home to her house in New York. We’re all fine. The attacker… not so much. Harley had to cut him into several pieces (literally) in order to get away. She’s feeling really sad about it, but not as bad as she would have, if anything had happened to Isabelle or me. If you’re worried that I might have to do something like that… well, I can’t tell you that it will never happen, but Harley is very protective of me and there are others as well -teachers and law enforcement people – who are looking out for us. The magical world is just not as safe as the muggle world. The flip side is that given my power, I will probably live to see my 3rd century. I will know my great, great, great grand-children. Also, my chances of dying on a broom are much, much lower than dying in a car accident or by food poisoning or something.**

** Anyway – the reason that I’m writing is that I’d like to invite you to come up and join us for a holiday break. I don’t know what time you have off, but I don’t have to go back to school until the 20th of January, so if you’ve time between now and then, just touch this page with your fingertip and say, YES. I’ll reply and tell you what to do next.**

** Love,**

** Hermione**

Miranda stared at the scroll for a moment and thought about what was being said, and probably _ not _ said. She had been away from Hermione since late August, so visiting with her was a given. The question was whether they’d been able to take two or three weeks. She knew she’d have to ask Jake when he got home… and after he ‘took care’ of her needs.

** <><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Two hours later, after Miranda had gotten the thorough workout of all of her needs, she was feeling much better. Jake had never left her unsatisfied and this night was no exception. As they stretched out in bed, Miranda rolled onto her side, so that she could look at her husband and see his expressions. “We got a letter from Hermione today. She’s invited us to Canada for the holidays. I wanted to ask if you if can get away from the office for a couple of weeks.”

“Why not? We can give our schedule over to Todd and Marie, since they both have been complaining about being underworked these last couple of weeks. Let them take over and deal with the post-holiday crowd for once.”

“Good. That’s that I thought too, but I didn’t want to speak for you. Let me go get the letter and we can set something up.”

Miranda climbed out of their bed and went off to the living-room, where the scroll was still sitting on the side-table. She brought it back with her to their bed and handed to him to read. She watched his face and saw the anger, then the surprise, and then interest in seeing real magic.

“Ok, so what do we do?”

“I think that we just do this” and she put an finger on the scroll and said, “Yes”.

The scroll shimmered for a moment and then all of the previous writing disappeared. New text appeared, in Hermione’s hand:

**_Excellent. I’m glad to hear it. Now, the best thing for you to do is call us. Our phone number is 819-693-0731. We’re GMT -5._**

** Love you a lot,**

** Hermione**

Jake looked at Miranda. “What do you think?” “I think that we ought to call the airlines tonight and see if we can get a flight over. God knows, we’ve got the money.” Harley had gifted them with more than £50,000 on their way out of Gringotts bank, as she said, “just because”. “I’ll make dinner. You make the calls. Let’s leave on the 23rd and come back on the 19th of January. Sound good?” Jake smiled. He loved Miranda more than he could describe. She was a loving partner, an enthusiastic lover, a wonderful mother, and his best friend. “I love you, Miri. I can’t wait to see our daughter, and to share Christmas with you two.” Miranda looked at him with happy tears in her eyes. “I love you too, Jake. It will be good to see our daughter again.” He nodded. “I wonder how much she’s grown. The doctor said that she’s going to be at least as tall as you.” “I know. That will be a weird day, looking her in the eyes. Fortunately, we’re not there yet, I’m sure.” “You know I miss her every day, don’t you?” Miranda nodded. Hermione’s absence created a tug on her heart that was indescribably painful. She had accepted that Hermione needed to learn how to be a witch but having her gone really was hard.

“Alright. We could sit here and feel bad about her being gone or do something about it. You make dinner and I’ll make the phone calls.”

Miranda nodded. There was no arguing that it made sense to make forward progress rather than just sit and feel bad about the situation.

** <><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Just after 2pm, EST – Loc Molson, Quebec, just off 325e Ave., on the eastern shore of Lac Molson**

Miranda wasn’t the only one who was excited. Hermione heard the “ding” that alerted her to the fact that her mother had responded to her message and she bounced across the room and saw that her private message to her mother had been displayed. All she had to do now was sit back and wait for their phone call!

This night was Yule and Hermione was excited, because she was with Harley, and safe, in a new home, far away from anyone or anything that could threaten them. It was going to be a night of sharing, both their goals for the new year and the things that they were letting go. It was a night of hope and reflection. It was a night to give gifts and burn the Yule log. It was also a night to drink Grog (hot mulled wine) eat a special meal together. Hermione was looking forward to all of that. She was excited about how Harley would react to the gift that Hermione had made for her. 

As she made her way down the stairs from the gorgeous new bedroom that she and Harley shared, she could smell the spices coming from the pot on the stove. It had Pine, cedar, bayberry, and cinnamon, cooking in a warm water. As the potpourri bubbled, it filled the house with the scents that Hermione associated with Yule/Christmas. 

A hand reached out and pulled her into a closet. “Hi” came Harley’s breathy voice.

Hermione eeep’d and then melted into her girls’ arms. 

“I love you” Harley said as she leaned forward and started kissing her. Hermione, of course, wasn’t in any mood to resist and she went languid and soft in Harley’s arms. When the broke apart, Harley leaned her head forward, so they were touching noses. “You’re my everything, you know. I’m so glad to have you here.”

Hermione’s stomach fluttered as she felt her lover’s magic wrap around her and tangle with her own. She pushed her own out, so that it met Harley’s and twisted and tangled into it. The more often they did it, the faster the response was for both of them and the better it felt. 

“I love you too, Harley. I can’t believe that I found you. I never thought that it would be a girl who did it for me, but you do.”

“I know. I felt the same, but now… I want you so much, I can’t describe it.”

“I’m looking forward to being ready to do more with you than kiss…”

“I know. A year from now, maybe…. We can do more then.”

“Is it shameful that I want to see you naked? Push my hands into your clothes and touch you?”

Hermione’s hands found Harley’s bottom and cupped it, pulling her close. It was the first time Hermione had had the bravery to do it, and it felt amazing, for both of them.

“Ohhhhh. Don’t do that to me, Hermione! You know I’d let you do anything you want, but if my mother caught us, we’d be in trouble.”

“I know, I know. I just want to love you every-way”

Harley kissed her one more time and then backed up, to pull her out of the closet. She knew that she’d get yelled at if she didn’t stop things before they went too far. She didn’t mention to Hermione that Isabelle had cast a certain charm on her that would alert her to any kind of *sex* on their part. A part of her was frustrated by the limit, but another part was kind of grateful, since she really didn’t know what Hermione would like, physically. She wanted to please her so much! 

A voice, Isabelle’s voice, called from the kitchen, and Harley turned to answer. “Yes, mom?”

“Come join me. We’ve got things to talk about.”

Hermione understood the underlying message about stopping whatever they were doing and she reluctantly agreed. She really wanted to retreat to Harley’s bedroom and have her wicked way with Harley for the balance of the afternoon, but that was probably out of the question for the moment. 

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**Malfoy Estate, Kielder Island, just north of Falstone, UK – later that same day, December 22** **nd** ** 1991**

Lucius Malfoy was not, usually, a Yule kind of person. He wasn’t a good gift-giver and tended toward being an introvert. He was, however, a devoted father and liked having his son home. 

Like his father, Draco was introspective and tended towards quiet. However, there were some things that animated him. One was flying his broom.

“Father? Please… let me show you something I learned? Please?”

Lucius could see how important it was for Draco to show him whatever it was that he had learned, so he followed his son outside. 

When they had gotten to their Quidditch pitch, which was kept warm and dry through a series of very expensive wards and spells, Draco grabbed his broom and hopped on it, as if he was born to it. Lucius watched him do things that he had never seen done before on a broom. 

“Watch this father!” And Draco took off, on a parabolic course upward, that topped off at more than 1000 ft. Lucius watched in both horror and amazement when Draco rolled over on his broom, hanging upside-down from it at the top of the arc, only to right himself as he reached the lower 3rd of the loop, on his way down. It was a classic Immelmann maneuver, that was ridiculously hard to do because of the G-forces that were involved. Draco had made it look easy.

“Where in Merlin’s name did you learn such a thing, Draco?” Lucius said, after Draco had landed.

Draco hung his head and couldn’t meet his father’s eyes. “I learned it from Harley Ross, Father” Draco said quietly. He had never lied to his father and he wasn’t about to start now.

Lucius thought about that for a moment. Why in Merlin’s name would a girl teach his son how to do something that most professional Quidditch players couldn’t do? And where in Hell had she learned it? 

Rather than voice his concerns, Lucius looked at him and said quietly. “Is there anything else you would like to show me?”

Draco looked up, grinning. “Yes, father!”

“Go. Show me what other tricks you’ve learned.”

And Draco did. Lucius nearly wet himself, watching some of the things that Draco had learned to do… as a _ first year student. _ The most amusing thing was when Draco showed his father the ‘sleeping-on-a-broom’ trick. Lucius finally broke down and said, with a small smile, “Son, I think you’re going to have to teach me that one. Your mother will either find it funny or she’ll yell at us both. Either way, I want to learn it.”

Draco thought that was awesome and immediately started showing his father the exact same instructions that Harley had shown him and the rest of the first-year students. 

By the time they finished, Lucius had a deep, new respect for his son’s abilities on a broom. “What else have you learned this Fall?” he asked, as they made their way back to their island home.

Draco beamed at him. “You’re not going to believe some of the things we’ve learned, father.”

“Really? And why do you think so?”

“Because we saw a demonstration that violates Gamp’s Third Law and I know how to do wandless animation.”

Lucius stopped short. HE couldn’t do wandless animation. “Draco, I think you need to stop. You don’t need to lie to me to impress me.”

“But father! I’m not lying. Look… I can show you.”

He took out the Palladium billet that he had bought from one of the first-years and held it out to his father. “Here, father. Look at it. Use your magic. Tell me if its enchanted in any way.”

Lucius took out the wand he was using, since he hadn’t been able to replace the wand that Isabelle had taken from him, and he did the normal series of detection charms. When it came back as plain, he looked at his son and then handed the billet back to him. Draco took out his wand, showed it to his father, and then put it away, as if to really put over the point that he was doing this wandlessly.

“Now watch.” Draco said. He took the billet and laid it flat on his palm. Lucius watched in amazement as the billet rose into the air and hung at a point between them, about 4’ off the ground. Draco smiled. The billet glowed red with heat, which also impressed Lucius. Then the amazing happened. The billet shifted into the shape of a bird and started flying all around both Draco and his father. Draco smiled, still silent, as the silvery bird fluttered down and landed on Lucius’ arm. The bird cocked its head, as if to say, “Now do you believe?”

Draco waved his hand and the bird stopped moving. It stood on his father’s arm. “I don’t lie to you, father. Ever.”

Lucius thought about how embarrassed he was to have challenged his son on the point. “No, no you don’t son. I am sorry.”

Draco hugged his father; something he didn’t do very often. “I love you, father.”

Lucius was surprised by the show of emotion, but he accepted it, since it was an emotional moment. “I know son. I love you too. And I am very proud of you. I would love to know who taught you wandless animation.”

Draco again hung his head. “Harley and Hermione did, father.”

Something in Lucius wanted to rage. He really wanted to know who was teaching the little powerhouse and how she was doing everything that she was doing. He calmed himself, after a moment, and said, “Is there anything else that you’ve learned from her that you think you should show me?”

“Do you have a Galleon on you, father?”

Lucius laughed. “Yes, son. You know I always do.”

“May I have one? I’ll show you something that we were shown.”

Lucius nodded and reached into a small wallet, to pull out a single Galleon. “Here.”

“Thank you, father. Now, let me show you what we were shown.” He took the Galleon and made it float, as he had done with the Palladium billet, and then took it through a series of wandless transfigurations, finally making it into a small dragon. Draco locked it into that form and snatched it out of the air, where it hung, suspended. “Here, father. I thought of you.”

Lucius was desperately trying to pick his jaw up off the ground, figuratively as he accepted the proffer of the small, gold dragon. “That’s not supposed to be possible, Draco.”

Draco looked at his father’s gray eyes. “I know. I was told that by Professor McGonagall. She was unbelieving too, until she saw about thirty of us do the same trick, all wandlessly.”

“And this girl, Harley, doesn’t care that I had words with her mother?”

“Not that I can tell. She looked me directly in the eye and handed me a Galleon, as if she just didn’t care about anything other than pissing off the teachers.”

“She doesn’t like them?”

“Well, she certainly doesn’t like Dumbledore and she told off Professor McGonagall one morning, while she was drinking her coffee.”

“Oh. Can you share that memory?”

Draco grinned like a loon. “You’ll love it, Father. Even the Slytherin table was laughing like mad.”

****

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**Office of Amelia Bones, Head of the DMLE-London; about the same time**

“What are we going to do about this, Shack?” Amelia Bones asked, as they sat at the small conference table in her office. She was weary. She had been in law enforcement a long, long time and had dealt with a lot of shit, but this definitely topped all else. A Pensieve, a large, investigator’s one, sat on the table between them. They had just watched a memory sent to them by a third party, whom Amelia had learned to trust. The first time she had watched it, she had thrown up. Even now, it creeped her out in ways she couldn’t describe. Kingsley Shacklebolt, her best, most responsible, as well as most powerful senior Auror, looked at her, pale as well, and shrugged. “I have no idea, Ami. That was a non-terminal, repeating phantasm, or a class-five, full-roaming vapor. It’s not what I’d call “alive”, but we all thought that something like this happened when the Potters were killed. I saw the horcrux leave the…. “and he trailed off, as if something had taken that part of the memory away from him. “… which means that Voldemort had to have split his soul multiple times. Probably five times – which horrifies me. If it’s not five, it’s seven… and then oh shit, we’ve got a problem.”

“And now it’s a class-five full-roaming vapor with two bits of soul in it. If we could get it close to another one of its Horcruxes, we could trap it permanently.” She replied.

“Yea…. But we’d have to find them all first.”

Amelia looked at him thoughtfully. “Let’s start at Hogwarts. I know that Voldemort has always fixated on the school. There’s got to be a reason for that. Let’s go see if he’s one of these god damned things there.”

Kingsley contemplated than and then said, “No. Better. We go talk to Ragnok first. He can help us because they’ve been dealing with these god-damned things for far longer than we have. They’re going to have curse-breakers who might be able to help us destroy them.”

“What possible reason could he have to help us, Shack? Why would he even grant us a meeting?”

“We tell him what we’ve seen. Maybe even show him the memory. Tell him that Voldemort’s supporters might have one of these in a Gringotts vault. Tell them that we would happily see Gringotts seize the vault of any such person and see the Horde sanction that person.”

Amelia thought about that. It really was a good idea, but she really thought that doing Hogwarts was the priority. It was such a major target that getting it out of the way would feel good and give them a sense of checking off a large box. She said as much to him. Kingsley took off his fez and ran a hand over his barren head. Finally, he said, “How are you going to play that, Ami? How are you going to get the nosey old goat out of the way long enough for us to do a search?”

“I’ll talk to Minerva first. She can tell us when Albus is tied up with the IWC or the Geezergamot and we can move then. A thorough search, if we use the elves, shouldn’t take that long. It’s not like we’re talking about something that could hide easily. This thing is going to stick out magically like a beacon in the dark.”

“I know. Let me deal with that part. I have a couple of ideas.”

Kingsley nodded. “I’ll leave you to it then. I’ve got to go back to my office and clean up the paperwork from that last arrest that we did.”

“Go. I will talk to you later this afternoon or tomorrow morning. We have a fair bit of planning to do before we move forward. And Shack? Not a word to anyone, right?”

“Not a word. Take care, Ami. I’ll talk to you later.”

He turned and left her office. It wasn’t exactly plush, but it was better than the cubicles in which he and most of his fellows worked. He didn’t envy her though. Her pressures were ones he’d never want. She had targets on her back that she knew about and ones that she didn’t know about. Some that were there were because of sexist attitudes about gender-roles and some were because of jealousy. It was ugly and unfortunate and it made him mad, but he couldn’t do anything about it in the moment. He had arrests to process, personnel to train, and a class-five, full-roaming vapor to kill. 

****

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**Azkaban Island, North Sea, 360 miles northwest of Hogwarts – December 23, 1991**

“Prisoner Black! You have mail.” The voice came from somewhere, but since Sirius Black was a large, black Grim most of the time, he couldn’t tell. It wasn’t until he shifted back to his human form that he heard the guard calling his name. “Prisoner Black, stand up and place your hands through the bars and receive your mail.”

Very slowly, Sirius stood up and made his way to the door of his cell. He pushed his hands through the designated slot and received a single scroll. It was obvious that it had already been opened. No surprise there. He pulled it too him and hobbled back to the only lit corner of his cell. He looked at it. Who would be writing to him? There was a smell of perfume from the parchment… a smell that he thought he remembered. Oh, so long ago. Unrolling it, he looked at what it said. “Padfoot. Use the magic words”. He looked at it. The rest of the scroll was blank. He turned it over. The back side was blank as well. He sat and thought. Magic words? What magic words? The only magic words he remembered were from the natty map that he, James, Remus, and Lily had made, so many years ago. What were those words…????? His mind drifted to days; better days. Days filled with laughter and sunlight. Moonlight and running with Remus, once he had changed. Beautiful Lily. Loving, sweet, kind Lily. The Map.

“I do solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” The parchment changed. It filled in. There were pictures! 

**22 December 1991**

** Dearest Sirius,**

** You are NOT forgotten. Minerva wrote to me about you, about Padfoot, (and yes, she knew about you, James, Remus and the rat) and to tell me that you need to know about your godson. I am telling you this secret. **_Harry Potter did not die October 31, 1981_**. James and Lily were taken from you, I know, but their son Harry lived. Harry was brought to me that night, in the colonies, by Minerva. She asked me to raise him, away from he of the too many names and insufferably long nose. I did so. When Harry turned three, I found him, in his bed, but as a little girl. I had always wanted a daughter, you see… and somehow, he accommodated. Harry became Harley. I have raised Harley as my daughter and I adopted her as my own three summers ago, as Harley Janel Ross, of the House of Ross. She carries the magic of the House of Ross, as if really born to it. She also wears the Ring of the House of Potter, which astonished me… and Lord Ragnok of Gringotts as well. Harley is now at school Hogwarts, though I hate it. I wish she could have gone to Ilvermorny, like I did. However, two things are very important for you to know. One, Harley is a Magus, and a powerhouse like Merlin. I’m not kidding. Secondly, Harley has a fiancée named Hermione Dagworth-Granger. Hermione is also a Mage. Apparently, they happen in twos, but Harley and Hermione are the first female couple in recorded history who are both Magi. I want you to know that we know you are innocent. You could not have performed the Godfather Acceptance Ritual AND betrayed the Potters. It would have killed you. Minerva is working on getting you out, but I don’t know what-all she has to do. I know Amelia Bones is involved, but that’s it. Now, your best bet is to get out of the prison and steal one of the Aurors' wands. That will allow you to Apparate to the next island over, which is Torshavn; part of the Faroe Island group. Get food and clothing there, using the wand that you’ve “borrowed” and then get your self back to the UK. You’ll need a place to hide, so we’re arranging with Hermione’s parents to put you up and get you healthy. They’re muggles, but they know all about the magical world and won’t be put out by your furriness. Once you’re in the UK, send a Patronus to Minerva and she will contact the Grangers. They’ll come find you, wherever you are, and get you to their home. Stay with them. We will hook up with you by Easter or by end of the school year. That means you have a year to figure out how to get past the guards. Remember that the Dementors don’t actually “see”. All they feel is**human emotion**. This may be a job for Padfoot, ok?**

Now, I know you want pictures, so here they are!

Hugs,

Isabelle Ross

** Regent, House of Ross**

Pictures did, indeed flow and Sirius Black sat and cried at the memories that had been uncapped, but no longer were they tears of anger. Regret? Yes, but not anger. They were now happy tears as he saw pictures of his God-daughter, Harley, and her adorable fiancée, Hermione. He smiled at the baby pictures, and at the pictures of Harley flying on her first broom, and trying on lipstick for the first time, and so many others. There were literally hundreds of photos. Sirius looked around. It was time to leave this stinking joint. The food sucked and the company ‘sucked’ worse. He would watch, learn, and get out… and there was no time like the present.

After he finished looking at all of the photos, he looked the scroll and said, through much happier tears, “mischief managed.” He would keep the scroll tucked away, safe, and bide his time until he could leave. And leave he would. He had a God-daughter to teach and protect.

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**December 23, 1991 – Department of Mysteries; Ministry for Magic, office of the Head Unspeakable, Professor Saul Croaker**

“And I’m tired of you coming to me with this kind of shit! No, we’re not going to investigate Area 51 in the Colonies. I don’t care what you think is there! There are 50 of us and ten thousand of them, and that’s just at that base. I have no desire to get slaughtered, trying to sneak into an area that is guarded by the Muggles and MCUSA. Now get out!”

The hooded Unspeakable turned and left the Director’s office. It was clear that he or she wasn’t happy. Saul Croaker’s assistant, Jane Court, was a recent recruit from Hogwarts. She was a Ravenclaw who had a passion for knowledge and an eidetic memory. While not an overly powerful witch, Jane was extremely competent, quiet, kind, very pretty, and attentive to his professional needs. That she had been graduated with all O’s on her NEWT’s, including Potions, DADA, Runes, and math. Not just magical maths either, but several years of Muggle coursework in Calculus and differential equations, which made her studies at Hogwarts look like child’s play.

“Sir? I have a memory-vial here for you. It was sent by Certified Goblin Delivery.” That got his attention. Someone who was willing to pay CGD’s fees meant for the vial to get to him, undamaged and untainted. CGD’s official motto was, “_When it absolutely has to get there now” which wasn’t as colorful as their _unofficial motto: **“Death to all who oppose us”.** CGD couriers had killed a number of people who had tried to steal deliveries from them and had earned their unofficial motto time and again.__

_ _ “Bring it in, Jane. If it’s hot enough to come CGD, then we might as well treat it with respect.” Saul smiled as Jane entered. For all of her quiet dignity, she was a beautiful young woman, who dressed in very feminine, form-flattering outfits that still comported with the importance of the office she served. Jane preferred 2” to 3” heels, which showed off her lean, beautiful form well, without being ridiculous. Saul watched her walk in and shook his head for the 200th time. He couldn’t help but admire her youthful beauty and grace. Just by being around, she made each day nicer. She’d make someone a wonderful wife or partner someday, he knew, and his department would be the very much poorer for it, if she left._ _

_ _ “Here it is, sir. I signed for it and it’s untouched in all respects. I’ve left the package for you to open.”_ _

_ _ Saul Croaker nodded. “Thank you, Jane. Awesome as usual. I’ll open it in a moment. I’m going to want to have you witness that for me and witness its addition to the Pensieve. If it’s a real memory, you’ll need to record the particulars and log it for us.”_ _

_ _ “Yes sir. Who will watch the memory with you today? Unspeakable Cole is available, as is Unspeakable Viola Richmond. Of the two sir, I’d recommend Unspeakable Cole. She’s better in the field and is more observant. She also writes better notes.”_ _

_ _ Unspeakable Angelina Cole was a Prefect at Hogwarts at the same time as Jane Court, and the two had competed head-to-head for grades, house-points, and summer internships. Jane had come out slightly ahead, but cheerfully acknowledged that she wouldn’t have been able to do it without being pushed by Angelina._ _

_ _ “Give it a half-hour and then get Cole up here. Don’t tell her what’s going on. I don’t need the scuttle-butt among the staff.”_ _

_ _ “Will do, sir. Half-hour.”_ _

_ _

_ _ ** <><><><><><><><><><><><>** _ _

_ _ A half-hour later, Unspeakable Angelina Cole wandered into the office of the Head Unspeakable. It wasn’t a comfortable place for her to be, considering her junior status on the team, but she had been asked for by name and you didn’t say no to Saul Croaker and keep your job. At least not for long._ _

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“Unspeakable Cole, sir.”

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“Good, send her in, please. I’ll need tea for both of us, along with a possible sedative for both of us. I don’t know what it is that we’re going to see and I don’t want to take the chance. If it’s like the last time, I’d like to be ready.”

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Jane swallowed hard at the memory. Even though she hadn’t seen it directly, being told about it was enough to make the bile rise. Human sacrifice tended to do that to a right-thinking person.

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“I’ll have everything set in ten minutes, sir. I’ll get one of my elves to help. The cafeteria is useless for those of us down here and their tea sucks, sir.”

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Saul rolled his eyes. Some Brits were tea-snobs and Jane was one of them. It was harmless as things went, but it increased his budget by a hundred galleons a month to keep his staff in “decent” tea. At least the elves made better-than-passable scones!

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“Ten minutes then, Jane. We’ll open the package when you’re ready and you can log its receipt. I will watch it with Unspeakable Cole, and then we will take what steps are necessary after that.”

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_ Saul watched her wander off to do what she had to in order to be ready with the necessary safeguards for viewing the memory as well as the tea and scones for afterwards. It’s too bad there’s 50 years between us. She’s got a gorgeous ass, a great smile, and a great mind. Yum. _ A part of him, however, recognized that Jane would be disappointed in him to hear that he thought those things about her. He knew that she wanted to be wanted for what she could do and for what she knew, as opposed to how she looked – and he _ did _ try to honor that. But, he was also male, single, and still breathing and it _ was _ hard not to think about and appreciate how good-looking she was. <Sigh> Such was the challenge of being in charge. 

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When Jane came back, it was obvious that she was ready. There was a tray, floating ahead of her, that was ladened with a Sterling silver, Russian tea samovar, milk, cream, sugar, and traditional Russian tea-glasses. Saul noticed that they were Sterling silver, Russian Railroad Tea Glass Holders (Podstakannik). _ Where the hell had she found those? _

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_ “Put the tray on my side-board, please, and then stay for the opening of the package. If there’s a problem, I’m going to want you both to step in and stop it. You have your wand?”_

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_ Jane nodded. So did Unspeakable Cole. “Good. Thank you. Alright, let’s do this.”_

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_ Saul used his own Athame to cut the package open and lift one side with the tip, to look inside, without touching it. He could see the vial and the letter that accompanied it._

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_ “All clear, so far. Unspeakable Cole. Please cast the diagnostics.”_

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_ She did so, carefully and obviously, so that it could be recorded as having been done by the book. Jane noted all of that. Saul reached into the package and pulled the letter out as well as the vial. A flick of his wand opened the letter, enlarged it significantly, and let them all read it._

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_ **23 December 1991**_

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_ ** Unspeakable Saul Croaker** _

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_ ** Department of Mysteries** _

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_ ** Ministry for Magic** _

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_ ** Saul –** _

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_ ** Please view this memory as quickly as possible. I’ve sent copies to Ragnok of Gringotts, to Amelia Bones, and the Circle of Asclepius.** _

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_ ** (Signed),** _

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_ ** Poppy Pomfrey, MD, Senior Healer** _

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_ ** Order of Merlin, First Class** _

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_ ** Cross of Valor, Canada** _

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_ Saul Croaker looked at the letter, as did Jane, and their jaws hit the ground. Neither was aware that Poppy was a Cross of Valor winner, nor were they aware that she had been awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class. _ That’s something worth looking into _, Saul thought. It took a moment for him to get his thoughts straight, and to make a note to research Poppy Pomfrey’s background. “Alright, no time like the present. Let’s get on with this. Unspeakable Cole, would you please prepare the memory?”_

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_ Angelina Cole moved to do as asked. Using the tweezers, she removed the stopper from the vial and then magicked the vial upside-down over the Pensieve. The memory slid into the bowl, and Saul touched the activation runes on the Pensieve. When it was ready, both he and Unspeakable Cole stepped forward to enter the Pensieve and view the memory. Jane recorded every step, in case there was a problem. Seeing no issues, she motioned for them to proceed. Saul and Angelina entered the Pensieve and were gone maybe two minutes. When they returned, they were both ashen-gray and trembling. Jane moved quickly with the potions that they had set aside for just this eventuality. Both unstopped the potions and drank them without a question._

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_ “What happened?” Jane asked immediately; seeing the concern on her boss’s face._

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_ “This thing just blew up on us and we have much, much larger problems than we thought. I need to assemble every Unspeakable who is available, as soon as possible.”_

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_ His no. 2 looked at him and realized that he was dead-serious. “Yes sir. I’ll put out the all-call right now. We should be able to have everyone in by 1600 hours today.”_

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_ “Sooner if possible, Jane. This can’t wait.”_

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_ Jane looked at her best friend and saw the look that told her that it was just that serious and there wasn’t time to waste. “The soonest the all-hands recall will have everyone here is two hours sir. We have people overseas.”_

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_ Saul shook her off. “Tell our people in France to come home. Tell the ones in Germany the same thing. Same for the ones liaising with MCUSA. The only one who can stay put is the IWC agent. I don’t want her to blow cover. We need her where she is.”_

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_ Jane nodded, turned, and left for her office. The All-hands call had to be done from her desk, after his magical signature._

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_ Angelina finally got herself together enough to look at her boss. “I’ll write it up right now, sir. That is, after I go and get sick.”_

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_ Saul wished he could say something fatherly or otherwise. Something to calm his agent and tell her that everything is going to be all right. He couldn’t though and the truth was, he wasn’t doing much better. They were going to war, against someone who had used the blackest, most evil magic on Earth, to not die when he god damned well should have. More, they were going to war against all those who had supported the bastard. It was way past time to put them through the veil. He was also going to have to contact Amelia Bones right off as well as Ragnok of Gringotts. He wasn’t comfortable asking the Goblins for anything, but given who was involved, he figured that it might not be as much of a lift as others might suppose. The more allies in this fight, the better. He’d leave the Circle of Asclepius to those with higher standing than he, since their high witch, the Green Lady, was known to be intolerant of men._

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**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

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_ **Office of Lord Ragnok the Fifth, Diagon Alley, Gringotts-London, December 24th, 1991**_

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_ _ The circle of Goblins who could approach Lord Ragnok’s office was small. Griphook was one of those who had the ‘privilege’. It was his mis-fortune to be the bearer of messages from the wand-wavers in the Ministry for Magic. Some were more important than others. Some were welcomed, such as the message from Amelia Bones, and others were not. Griphook had no idea how this message would be received. Those who worked in the Department of Mysteries usually kept to themselves and when they did reach out to the Horde, it was for a very good reason, though not always to the Horde’s benefit. Like all those others who came before Ragnok, Griphook fell to bended knee in the presence of his lord and waited silently, until biddened to rise. Finally, he heard his lord’s voice. “Rise, Griphook. Tell me what brings you to me. Is there not enough to do on the Teller line?”_ _

_ __ _

“My lord, all is well on the Teller line. I come because we have a message from the wand-wielder, Saul Croaker, head of the Department of Mysteries. It is marked ‘most urgent’. That commanded Ragnok’s attention. Saul Croaker was not one to overstate a matter. “Bring it forth, Griphook.”

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“Yes, my lord.” Griphook rose and brought the package to his lord’s desk, where he opened it and drew forth the letter and the vial that accompanied it. The letter was short and to the point:

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**24 December 1991**

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** Lord Ragnok the Fifth**

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** Gringotts Bank – London, UK**

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** My lord Ragnok,**

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** We have had dealings in the past. You have always acted with honor and trust. I trust you in this matter, which is why I am sending it to you without pretense. I know that your first duty is to your honor, then your family, your clan, and then the Horde itself. The message involves the darkest, most vile magics – the ones most forbidden by the Horde. Please view it as quickly as possible. I await your reply.**

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** Saul Croaker**

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** Head Unspeakable**

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** Department of Mysteries**

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** Ministry for Magic, London**

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Ragnok thought about what Croaker was saying to him. It concerned him when he said, “most vile magics”. There were only three things that fell into that category. Surely one of the wand-wielders hadn’t gone down one of those paths. There was only one way to know. He ordered that his Pensieve be set up, so that he could see the memory that had been sent. It would take only five minutes, once the memory was finished, to bring the Horde one step away from a war-footing.

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**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

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**December 24th, 1991 - Loc Molson, Quebec, just off 325e Ave., on the eastern shore of Lac Molson**

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Christmas had finally arrived. Yule had been wonderful – intimate, loving, thoughtful, and family-oriented. Christmas Eve promised to be different. Having Hermione’s parents with them added a lot to the celebration, in ways that Harley hadn’t expected. The first was that it felt like she suddenly had three parents, instead of one. The second was that getting to know Jake and Miranda as the people who had made Hermione gave her the chance to learn about the experiences that had made Hermione the person that she had become. The third thing was that it gave them both a chance to tell Jake and Miranda about the things that they had been feeling, without judgement or harassment. They had even gotten the chance to show Jake and Miranda the effects of the bond, when Isabelle had removed (temporarily) the masking charm.

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Jake had half-halfheartedly tried to warn Harley about what would happen if she hurt Hermione, but he got as far as “You hurt her and I’ll….” when he saw Harley’s light-saber blade ignite and she said sweetly, “You’ll do what, exactly?”

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He had looked at her and said, “you know, you’re no fun at all. I thought I was going to be able to scare off at least one boyfriend from Hermione before she got into a serious relationship, and now I find I can’t even do that.”

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Harley had grinned at him, before extinguishing her sword, tucking her wand away, flouncing over to where Hermione sat, throwing herself onto Hermione’s lap, and kissing her soundly. Even Miranda was laughing by the time Harley was comfortable in Hermione’s lap. “Well, that’ll show you, now won’t it?” she said to her husband, affectionately. 

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_ _“It’s really not fair, you know. It’s a fathers _ job _ to scare suitors away.”_ _

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Isabelle, who was laughing at the whole situation, said, “You know Jake, it’s really _ not _ your job to scare off suitors. That would be Hermione’s job, if you’ve raised her properly.”

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“As if I’m going to scare off my girl...” Hermione said, with a clingy arm around Harley.

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Miranda knew her husband wasn’t in any position to do anything about his daughter’s relationship, since either or both girls could turn him into a frog or something. It was a disruption of the balance of power between parents and children. Was she even allowed, she wondered, to talk to her therapist about it?

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“Isabelle” Miranda said, “In all seriousness, are we allowed to talk to our therapist about this?”

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Isabelle looked at her in confusion. “About what?”

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“About this” and Miranda swept her arm across the room, to more or less point at Harley and Hermione. 

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Isabelle thought about that. “Does your therapist know about the magical world?”

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Isabelle hemmed and hawed about that for a moment. “We think so” she said, “but we’re not one hundred percent certain. She definitely knows Hermione and knows that there’s something very definitely different about her. Whether she’s explicitly pieced it together or not, I don’t know.”

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“Is she bound by secrecy?”

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“To the grave, if necessary. Medical confidentiality can’t be breached except in cases of infectious disease, or the person is a threat to him or herself or to others. The only confidentiality that is stricter is between husband and wife, which is absolute.”

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Hermione perked up at that. She didn’t know about the rules of confidentiality, but it made sense to her.

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Isabelle looked at her and then said, “You should be fine in talking to her. Just remind her that talking about the Magical world carries consequences that neither you nor she would like. It’s the one thing that all British magicals get up in arms about.”

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Hermione asked the question that has been niggling at her since the subject came up. “Mom? How long have you had a therapist?”

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_ _Miranda looked at Hermione, as if it was a strange question. “I’ve always had a therapist, Hermione. Ever since the start of Dental school. It’s required for people who are going to be surgeons or do any kind of invasive work.”_ _

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_ _“Oh. I didn’t know that.”_ _

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Miranda grinned. “Hermione, I love you. Despite your scholarly brilliance, you don’t know everything. It does help to have a few years under your belt.”

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Harley looked across at the Grangers and said, “one of our classmates made the mistake of calling my girl an ‘insufferable know-it-all’. I made him pay for that. 

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_ _Isabelle asked, quietly, “Do I dare ask what you did to him, love?”_ _

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Harley grinned a Cheshire grin. “Switching spell”. Hermione started giggling.

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“You didn’t!”

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“Harley! That was just an example! I never meant for you to actually go and _ do _ it.” Isabelle admonished, strongly; embarrassed that she had been the progenitor of such an awful payback.

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“Clearly we’re missing something here” Jake said.

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“I’m sorry, Jake. It’s just that in passing, I once suggested to Harley that she could switch a boy’s nose with… well, you get the idea.”

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"justify">Jake had turned green. “You didn’t?!” 

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“Yup!” said Harley, grinning like a loon. “He farted and immediately passed out, because his nose was suddenly a lot closer to the action.”

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_ _By this point, both Hermione and Miranda were howling with laughter. Jake was now fully green, not knowing what to say, and Harley was hugging Hermione and enjoying the moment, since she hadn’t gotten caught for it. _ _

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“Time for Dinner!” Isabelle announced, “And then we can do presents and stockings, ok?”

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_ _The girls set the table and with the help of an expansion charm, there was room for the five of them, plus food, etc. Isabelle passed wine around for everyone, including small portions for Hermione and Harley. “If you’re going to drink, you’re going to learn to do it at home, where you’re safe.”_ _

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It was Harley’s first time drinking wine with dinner, and to her surprise, she found that she liked it. It didn’t hurt that it was a sweet, ice-wine, made in southern Quebec. 

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_ _Both girls tucked into the meal with particular vigor; wiping out two large plates each and then looking around for desert._ _

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When desert was done and everyone was sitting around the fire, Harley and Hermione snuggled into one another, on one of the couches, and fell asleep. Jake, Miranda, and Isabelle talked late into the night; swapped presents, and let the girls sleep. There was no harm and both Isabelle and the Grangers felt more at peace than they had in a very, very long while. There was always time tomorrow, or the day after, to give the girls their gifts. That was the beauty of the winter break. 

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_ _ **<><><><><><><><><><><><>** _ _

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Across the pond, things were less beatific. Aurors were scouring the entire Kingdom to find two girls and having no luck. Gringotts was in an uproar and had actually closed its doors for an entire day, for “undisclosed matters”, causing widespread disruption and concern. Two hundred hooded men and women in long black cloaks, Unspeakables all, were searching Hogwarts Castle, floor by floor, room by room, piece by piece. If it was closed, it was opened and inspected. If it was locked, it was forced open, if it couldn’t be forced open, it was destroyed. The search would result in three arrests, three seizures of contraband, and one fugitive. It was simply unfortunate that the fugitive was the Potions Master, Severus Snape.

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One of the Men in Black, a junior Unspeakable called J, found the first of the items they were hunting. It was in a “Room of Hidden Things”, which turned out to have already been organized, cataloged, sorted by value, and at least dusted. The other Unspeakables took note of the fact that someone had gotten to this very special room before them and had gone to great pains to organize it and assemble it for further study. There was even a sizable pile of girls’ panties, some of which had to have been close to 1000 years old. There were brooms, some of which were antiques in amazing condition and prized as collectibles and there was also a collection of diaries. More than 250 of them, actually. Those were sent off to the historians. 

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_ _There were notes on several objects; mostly to remind the cataloger to have the item(s) researched further or sent off for curse-breaking. J thought it odd that there were no wands, books, weapons, or magical items, save for several that had been set aside for curse-breaking. It was in this last pile that J made his discovery. The item in question, a Tiara said to have belonged to Helga Hufflepuff, was taken for special handling. The rest of the room, minus the large cache of alcohol, was left intact. The alcohol was confiscated by the Department of Mysteries for “testing”. Minerva McGonagall watched the Unspeakables leave. They didn’t disapparate like most wizards and witches. Instead, the simply faded to nothing within a step or two. It was silent and it was creepy. It had to be a form of Apparition, she thought, but it wasn’t like anything she had ever seen before. _ Good riddance _, she thought as well. The Unspeakables had left untold destruction throughout the castle.__

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_ _ Several student lockers had been blown to little bits because they were locked in ways that couldn’t be opened. Three of the ones that were opened, to the detriment of their owners, resulted in seizures of forbidden items and orders for arrest of their owners._ _

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_ _ Severus Snape had run when his person possessions were opened for inspection and illegal, forbidden potions were discovered therein. Counters for _ Veritaserum _ , an enhanced version of Amortentia that the Unspeakables said was unblockable, a pain potion that was like the liquid form of the Cruciatus curse, and several forbidden poisons that were derivatives of Acromantula venom or Basilisk venom._ _

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_ _ Explaining the mess to Albus was not going to be fun… except Snape’s departure. That, she knew, was going to be fun to explain. Creep that he was, Snape had enough things in his possession to justify a lifetime stay in Chez Azkaban. The upside was that one of the Horcruxes has been found and they were a major step closer to finding and killing Voldemort permanently. There was nothing better than that. Three pieces were accounted for and she suspected that another would be found at Gringotts. It was a hunch, but there really wasn’t a better place to hide something than in one of the low-numbered vaults. That would bring the total to four. How many more? Three. It had to be three. But where? What terrors were waiting for them when they did find them? What if the Dark Lord was re-embodied before then? Minerva’s stomach clenched at the thought. It was not a thought for a good night’s sleep._ _

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_ _ _ _ **{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}** _ _ _ _

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_ _ **Christmas Day, 1991 - Loc Molson, Quebec, just off 325e Ave., on the eastern shore of Lac Molson**_ _

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_ _ Isabelle looked out over Loc Molson, into the growing dark. Sunset was at 4:17 and full night was coming on fast. It had been a wonderful day, full of presents, eggnog, singing, more eggnog, Christmas stockings, a light dinner, board games (no magic!) and more eggnog (with Irish Whiskey)._ _

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_ _ “Mom?” Isabelle heard Harley’s voice, and turned around just in time to see her collapse to the floor. Without thinking about it, Isabelle apparated across the room to her daughter’s side. Harley looked up, glassy-eyed, and said, “Help Hermione!”_ _

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_ _ Isabelle screamed as Harley’s eyes closed and she felt to the floor, limp. Isabelle watched as Jake moved like lightning up the stairs, to see to Hermione, while Miranda rushed to her side, pushed her out of the way, and put her fingers to Harley’s neck, before feeling for a breath. “She’s alive. She’s not hot, so it’s not a fever… at least one that I’d understand.” Miranda peeled back Harley’s eyelids and was struck by the fact that they were glowing with magic – deep, radiant green._ _

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_ _ Jake came down the stairs so fast, and so loudly, that Miranda started crying before he even got her to her side. “Is she….?” Jake said, though his voice was very rough, “She’s alive. No fever, but strong pulse. Eyes dilated. It’s not shock, but I don’t know what the hell’s going on.”_ _

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_ _ “I’ll call magical medical emergency. If someone’s close by, they’ll help.” And with that, Isabelle ran to the porch, put her wand up as high as she could reach, and send a pulse of magic so strong that even Jake and Miranda could feel it. Somewhere, in the darkness, a pulse of magic answered her call. “Someone’s coming” Isabelle said. A moment later, a tall slip of a girl appeared next to Isabelle. She was dressed in a Healer’s garb. “I am Bethany St. Bertrand. What’s the emergency that you called me all the way from Laval?”_ _

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_ _ “I am Isabelle Ross. You are at 325 East Avenue, in Lac Molson. My daughter, Harley, and her fiancée, Hermione, just collapsed. We need your help. This is Miranda and Jake Granger. They’re non-magical, and they are Hermione’s parents. Please... help.”_ _

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_ _ Bethany moved inside, and to Harley’s side, who was laying still, right where she had collapsed. Bethany did a complicated series of charms, muttering to herself the whole time. She did another series of diagnostics, and then looked at Isabelle. “Good news or bad news?”_ _

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_ _ “Good news.”_ _

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_ _ “Your daughter is going to be fine, eventually. That’s the good news. The bad news… well, as far as I can tell, your daughter is a Mage, and she’s undergoing her first maturation. It can last up to a month. The more powerful the person, the longer it usually takes, so don’t be surprised if she’s out cold for several days at first. Keep her warm, hydrated, and asleep. Now, let’s see the other girl.”_ _

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_ _ Jake looked at Miranda and the two medics looked at Harley. They suspected what was going on but were unwilling to say anything to Isabelle yet. When Bethany got to the second-floor bedroom, and found Hermione lying on the bed, passed out, Bethany repeated the diagnostic charms. Then she waved her wand over Miranda and Jake, muttering the whole time. _ _

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_ _ When she was finished, she looked at the three of them. She could see the scared looks on their faces, so she set them aside. “Your daughter is going to be just fine. That’s the good news. She is also undergoing her fist magical maturation. When’s her birthday?" “September 19, 1979” Jake answered immediately._ _

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_ _ “OK. So, here’s the bad news. Your daughter, and the girl downstairs, are magically bonding.”_ _

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_ _ “We knew that already.”_ _

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_ _ “Oh? Ok. Well, here’s the thing. Your daughter and the girl downstairs are, I think, both Magi. Do you know what that is?”_ _

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_ _ “Well, we knew that already as well. A Magus, or Magi, is the highest classification of a witch or wizard. There’s only one other in all of the UK right now. They’re extremely rare, on the order of one every couple of centuries, and this is the first recorded instance of a pair-bond between two girls who are themselves Magi.”_ _

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_ _ Bethany cocked her head and looked at Miranda. “For a non-magical, you know a lot.”_ _

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_ _ “We’re medical… dental… healers. We’re paid to know a lot.”_ _

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_ _ Bethany thought about that for a moment and then decided to let it slide. “Well then, this other bit of news might not be as much of a shock. As far as I can tell, you’re both squibs. Not magical like your daughter, but enough to see and feel magic. Enough to make potions if you had to, and enough to use magical equipment.”_ _

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_ _ Miranda looked at Jake and the both shrugged. “Not really a surprise. Anything else that we need to know? How long does Hermione need to rest?”_ _

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_ _ “Well, that brings me to the other thing. Your daughter, Hermione, and the other girl need to be in physical contact right now, and for as long as they’re asleep. They’re in the last stages of bonding and, as far as I can tell, will be ready to consummate their relationship in the next year or two. Certainly by the time they’re both 14.” That wasn’t really news to either Jake or Miranda. They were just glad that there were no children possible by such activity. Hermione had always been precocious and this was just another example of it._ _

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_ _ “Is there anything that we can give Hermione, for pain or anything?” Miranda asked._ _

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_ _ Bethany answered. “The standard pharmaceuticals work. Find an NSAID that you’re comfortable with. Otherwise, there’s an anti-pain potion that magical healers can supply, but it’s controlled because it can be addictive. Personally, I’d recommend a shot of high-quality Rum, 141 proof, with two tablespoons of Honey, a tablespoon of lemon juice, and some hot water. It’s almost as effective as the NSAID, and it’s cheaper. If that doesn’t work for you, a half-cup of hot mulled wine will do the trick. What you’re trying to do is get the girls to sleep for as long as possible. Oh, and on that note, they’ve got to be skin-on-skin, so clothes need to be removed. I’m sorry if that’s uncomfortable, but it’s necessary at this point in the bonding.”_ _

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_ _ Miranda shrugged. Hermione seemed totally willing to strip down for Harley, and if they read Harley right, the feeling was mutual. As for consent, Isabelle had consented for Harley and they had consented for Hermione. _ _

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_ _ “How long will they be out?” Jake asked._ _

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_ _ “Oh… well, this part? Probably twenty-four to forty-eight hours. After that, they can be up for short periods, until it stretches to 6 or eight hours. They should be past all of this by the time they need to go back to school.” “Thank you, Bethany. Please let us know what your bill is. We’ll see that you’re taken care of through Gringotts.”_ _

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_ _ “Ok. So, I’ll have the hospital bill you. It’s easier.”_ _

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_ _ “Isabelle will probably want to talk to you as well.”_ _

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_ _ Bethany nodded and then turned and disappeared down the stairs. A quiet conversation followed, and then Bethany walked out to the porch and disapparated away. _ _

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_ _ Once the girls were stripped and tucked into bed together, Isabelle had calmed down enough to talk to Miranda and Jake. “I’m so sorry….” She began._ _

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_ _ “Don’t, Isabelle. You have done nothing for which you need to apologize. Hermione’s magical maturation isn’t your fault. There’s nothing that would have stopped it from happening, just like there’s nothing you can do to keep Harley from becoming a woman. Jake and I are at peace with it, after talking to Bethany.”_ _

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_ _ “Are you sad about their relationship?”_ _

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_ _ Jake reacted immediately. “No! Of course not. If anything, we’re grateful that Hermione found the person who is exactly perfect for her. Magus come in pairs.”_ _

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_ _ That made Miranda stop and think. Then she stopped and tugged on Jake’s shirt. It was her way of telling him that she had something important that she wanted to say. “What is it love?”_ _

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_ _ "Harley's a Magus. Hermione's a magus... and Magus come in pairs. I think I know who Albus’ opposite number is.”_ _

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_ _ Isabelle looked at her with wonder. Albus Dumbledore was an incredibly private, inaccessible person. If it was discovered who his opposite number was, magically, it would be a big deal._ _

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_ _ “Who do you think it is?” Isabelle asked._ _

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_ _ “I’ve been reading Hermione’s history of magic books and my best guess is that it is the last dark lord… Grindelwald. And if I’m reading between the lines properly, I think Dumbledore and Grindelwald were lovers before the war.”_ _

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	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> {

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pursuant to the Berne Convention Implementation Act of 1988 and the Digital Millennium Copyright Act of 1998, 17 U.S.C. §§ 512, 120 1–1 205, this work is copyrighted 2019 with all rights expressly reserved by its author unless explicitly granted. No portion may be reproduced in any fashion, or hosted on any website, without the express written and notarized permission of the author. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own rights to any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of Joanne K Rowling, © 2003, to whom I am deeply indebted. The Harry Potter series is property of Joanne K. Rowling, and Arthur A. Levine Books, Inc., a division of Scholastic Press, Inc., © 2003. I make no money from any of this. WHATEVER CREATIVE MATERIAL IS LEFT IS MINE.
> 
> CONTENT Disclaimer: This story may contain sexually graphic and explicit material and as such, it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now, as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. These stories are just that, stories, and do not promote or condone the activities described herein.

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**From Chapter VII**

“Are you sad about their relationship?”

Jake reacted immediately. “No! Of course not. If anything, we’re grateful that Hermione found the person who is exactly perfect for her. Magus come in  _ pairs. _ ”

That made Miranda stop and think. Then she stopped and tugged on Jake’s shirt. It was her way of telling him that she had something important that she wanted to say. “What is it love?”

Miranda looked at both Jake and Isabelle. “I think I know what’s been bugging me about that. It was either Minerva McGonagall or Lord Ragnok who said that Albus Dumbledore is a Magus. If that’s true, and Magus come in pairs, I think I know who Albus’ opposite number is.”

Isabelle looked at her with wonder. Albus Dumbledore was an incredibly private, inaccessible person. If it was discovered who his opposite number was, magically, it would be a big deal.

“Who do you think it is?” Isabelle asked.

“I’ve been reading Hermione’s history of magic books and my best guess is that it is the  _ last _ dark lord… Grindelwald. And if I’m reading between the lines properly, I think Dumbledore and Grindelwald were lovers before the war.”

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**Monday, January 20, 1992 – Hogwarts – The Great Hall – just after 7am**

Harley and Hermione made a point of walking into the Great Hall, hand in hand. While walking sedately, they were taking the time to look around and see if anyone else had changed visibly. Hermione counted four that she thought were visibly different after the Winter Break. Harley counted five, but the wasn’t as good with details as Hermione was. 

Both girls were close to 5’0”, up from 4’8” before the break. The drastic change had required entirely new wardrobes, from underwear, on up. They were lucky that as witches, the torture device called “the bra” was completely unnecessary, since support-charms took care of that nicely. 

Now though, their day-wear robes had their family crests, as etiquette dictated. Eyes locked on them as they walked by, some in shock and some in obvious pleasure. Their supporters looked pleased to see them, even if they were surprised by their sudden growth spurts. 

As they made their way to their customary seats, there was a small ruckus, as the annoying, red-haired boy who had been on the receiving-end of Harley’s switching-spell stood up and pointed his wand at her again, before being pulled down to his seat,  _ hard _ . Harley watched as several boys smacked the redhead in the back of the head with their open hands; as if that would get the proper message across. Harley wasn’t worried, of course. The boy was too young to initiate an honor-duel and he was too incompetent to accost her magically, even if he wanted to do so. 

Hermione caught Minerva McGonagall’s eye as she and Harley made their way to their seats. She couldn’t tell if the Deputy Headmistress was pleased or annoyed, but she figured that she’d find out in due time. 

The moment that they sat down, the questions began from their room-mates.

“What happened?”

“Where were you for the Holidays?”

“Why are you so tall?”

Harley took Hermione’s hand and they looked at everyone. “In order of your questions, first – we went through our first magical maturation. Second, we were at my house, and third, see our first answer.”

There was a different world where Hermione would have gone off on some long, ridiculous, unappreciated rant about magical maturation and how it comes to each person differently, but in this world, Hermione knew better. Her business was hers alone (except for Harley, of course) and no one needed to be lectured on anything. Fay Dunbar looked different as well. She had obviously had her first maturation and it seemed to be sitting well with her. “How was it for you?” she asked Hermione quietly.

“Awful. I collapsed in Harley’s arms on Christmas Day and I saw the look in her eyes. I’ve never seen anyone so scared or sad before. I knew I had to live, for her. Harley collapsed in front of her mother and scared the life out of her too. Fortunately, there was a Healer within Apparition-distance. She came and checked us out and told Harley’s mom, Isabelle, what to do.”

“Well, that’s good. I’m glad for you. Mine started when I was asleep. I slept for thirty-six hours straight. When I woke up, I was two inches taller. When it was finished, I had picked up just over four. Sucks to have to buy a whole new wardrobe when you’ve just bought one!”

Hermione giggled. She had had great fun in teasing her mother about having to buy all new sets of underwear, “Pretty stuff” for Harley’s sake, but she didn’t dare say that out loud here. Maybe when they got back to their dorm room, with just their roommates. 

They were just getting through their breakfasts and talking about what their second-semester classes were going to be like, when the doors to the Great Hall burst open and six Aurors came striding in. Albus Dumbledore was not one to tolerate the interference of the Ministry in the school, so his wand was out, as were the wands of the rest of the teachers. Seeing that, Hermione and Harley both drew their wands. Whatever was going on, Harley had a bad feeling about it and she wanted to be ready. 

Several of the other students also drew their wands, when they saw that Harley and Hermione had done so. One of them was Susan Bones. 

“We have an Arrest and Detain Warrant for the student Harley Ross.”

“For what cause, Auror?”

“This is a Detention Warrant. We don’t have to give cause.”

“I think you do, Auror, and you’d be well advised to leave here and re-think your plans. Lady Ross is First of the Twenty-Eight. She can be detained only by vote of the Wizengamot. And since I am the Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot, I’m telling you to leave.”

“Doesn’t matter. She’s coming with us. Now, where is she?”

“Right behind you, asshole.”

Albus shrugged, sat down, and decided to watch the fireworks, along with everyone else. It was fun to see Murphy visit someone else for a change. 

The Auror whirled about and almost got himself impaled. Both Hermione’s and Harley’s swords were glowing and Harley’s was pointed at the man’s chest. He backed up fast and looked the swords with something akin to terror. “You’re not taking me anywhere, so I suggest you leave.”

“Look, punk, you’re coming with us.”

“Ah…no. I’m not. And if you try to force the issue, you’ll regret it. Well, parts of you will.”

The man reached for his wand. That was a mistake. Harley thrust her sword forward and took his hand off at the wrist with a flick. It fell with a horrible, wet thump and he fell to the floor, screaming; clutching his bleeding stump. One of the Aurors, more talented than the others, wandlessly cast a magical tourniquet on the hand, so the guy didn’t bleed-out. 

Hermione looked at the rest, her eyes blazing, and her sword up, in front of her. “Anyone else want to miss pieces?”

The rest of the Aurors, seeing that they were definitely not going to win this confrontation, started backing up, their hands were well away from their wands. Hermione menaced them all the way to the doors to the Great Hall. 

“Call Poppy Pomfrey. Tell her we need Essence of Dittany and do it now.”

Someone ran off to get the Healer, while Harley kept her sword pointed at the man. “You come here again without a proper warrant and the only way you’re leaving is in a body-bag, you understand me?”

The man nodded in terror. “Good. I’m glad we’re clear on that. Now, you’re lucky. Madame Pomfrey might even be able to re-attach your hand. Consider it my mercy. You don’t get a next time.”

Soon, Poppy Pomfrey bustled down the center aisle of the Great Hall and knelt by the Auror. She took his severed hand, pressed it to the stump, just so, and then bathed it with the Essence of Dittany. The man screamed for a long moment, and then lay back, relieved. When he stood up, he had his hand back. Harley’s sword was still pointed at him. “Leave. You don’t get a second chance.”

The man nodded to her, turned, and left. When he was out the door, Harley and Hermione both extinguished their swords. The room burst into applause, which caught the two girls very much by surprise. They held hands and bowed slightly to the Hall. When the applause died down, the two made their way to their school bag and mid-morning snack, which they had wrapped in a napkin, before placing it into the school-bag. 

A voice off to their right caught them short. “Nice work. I was all ready to jump in, but you seemed to have it covered.”

Hermione turned. It was Susan bones. Hermione smiled at her and said, “Thanks. I don’t think anyone told those guys what exactly they were facing or that they were totally in the wrong.”

Susan nodded as they walked. “My Aunt’s going to be furious. She’d never try to arrest a Peer without going to the Wizengamot first. I think someone was freelancing, in the hope that they’d get lucky and you didn’t know the rules.”

“Well, they’re idiots. I was really sorry to have to hurt that guy, but when he went for his wand, I wasn’t going to take a chance.”

“You did it perfectly, Harley. You scared the shit of him, which is a major win. He’ll not go anywhere near you again without dotting his I’s and crossing his T’s. That’s IF my aunt doesn’t take him across the coals for what he did. Drawing a wand on a member of the Peerage is a minimum 2-year stay in Azkaban. He’s also lucky that you didn’t cut his wand in half. I heard your mother did that to Lucius Malfoy. Wizards take that kind of personally.”

Harley thought about that and decided that maybe, something ought to be done to fix that. Isabelle was known to have a short fuse and Harley didn’t want to make any more enemies than necessary. Besides, Draco had been nice enough so far and Harley wanted as many friends as possible. 

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**Office of the Head of the DMLE, Ministry for Magic, London, UK – just a little while later**

The day had started so nicely. Clear, crisp, quiet and beautiful. Then Amelia Bones got to work and it all went to shit. 

The moment she walked in the door, she was greeted by her administrative assistant, Gloria. “Oh, thank Merlin you’re here, Boss. One of the Aurors got it in his head to try to bring in the Ross girl from Hogwarts on an administrative warrant.

Amelia Bones was a kind, gentle soul most of the time. She was a loving Aunt, god-mother, and friend. She was also, in turns, a tyrant, a miserable bitch, a demonic soul, and a curse from the lowest rungs of Hell, depending on the situation. She could go from zero to infinitely evil in two shakes of a lamb’s tail, if necessary. 

Hearing that one of her Aurors had gone off the reservation and tried to arrest a Peer of the Realm, and not just any peer, but the First of the Twenty-Eight, pushed Amelia’s soul from gentle, good woman to infinitely evil in a single breath. 

“GET HIM UP HERE. HIS ASS IS MINE.”

“Yes, ma’am” Gloria said, and then she skittered away just as fast as she could. Two minutes later, the six Aurors responsible for the arrest attempt shuffled into her office. “Gloria! GET HR UP HERE. We’re going to need them. Also, get the Head Auror up here. Tell him that he’s about to experience a RIF.”

RIF was an acronym from the muggle government in the US. It stood for “Reduction in Force”. In other words, mass lay-offs or firings. That’s exactly what Amelia Bones had in mind.

Didn’t say anything to the six, assembled Aurors, while they waited for the rep from HR to show up, as well as the Head Auror, Robards. When they finally arrived, Amelia let loose, loud and directly. “ALRIGHT, WHO’S THE STUPID FUCK WHO THOUGHT IT WAS A GOOD IDEA TO TRY TO ARREST A MEMBER OF THE PEERAGE? AND NOT JUST ANY MEMBER, BUT THE FIRST OF THE TWENTY-EIGHT?”

It took a moment, but finally a man in his late twenty’s stepped forward. “It was me.”

“Rufus, I would normally defer to your father’s interests, but WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?”

“We were ordered to find her. I figured she’d be at school. Problem solved.”

Amelia wiped her eyes and then glowered at the whole group. “I’VE GOT TO STOP ASKING HOW FUCKING STUPID YOU ALL CAN BE. YOU’RE STARTING TO TAKE IT AS A CHALLENGE AND YOU’RE GIVING ME ANGINA.”

The six shrank back. The amount of yelling that Amelia was doing wasn’t just impressive, it was also depressive. They realized the folly of following a young, charismatic Auror who thought he had a good idea, without checking it out with their superiors first.

“You all tried to arrest the First of the Twenty Eight, without the proper warrant, and in front of hundreds of witnesses. She could have killed you all and I wouldn’t be able to say BOO if she did. You are all FUCKING LUCKY she was feeling merciful.” Turning to the main point of her ire, she said, “You have something to say?”

“She cut off my hand!”

“Were you drawing your wand on her?”

“So?”

Amelia turned to the rep from HR. “Have you heard enough?”

The woman nodded.

“Rufus, you’re fired. Turn in your badge, your weapons, your armor, and your wands. You’re too fucking stupid to serve on the force. The Lady Harley Janel Ross could have killed you. Probably should have killed you. It would have saved us a lot of grief. You drew a wand on a Peer. That’s 2 to 5 in Azkaban, if she wanted you charged. I don’t think she will, so consider yourself very, very, very lucky. Now, get out of my sight.”

The man turned and left, in the company of the HR Rep, who would have the luck of processing his dismissal. The Head Auror leaned back against the wall and watched. He was already down one Auror. He wondered if he was going to lose any others. 

“Now, as to the rest of you, two months’ loss of pay, effective immediately. You will all right letters of apology to the Lady Ross. They will be shown to ME first, for approval. You will each tell your heads of house that you’ve been disciplined. If they have questions, they can come to me. I will then explain to them that you five are lucky to be alive and that you should each be very grateful that Lady Harley Janel Ross isn’t bloodthirsty. We know she can and will kill if necessary. When she was attacked at the JFK International Airport in New York City, she cut her assaulter into four pieces. Think about that. Now, get out of my sight!” “Robards, you’re with me.”

The five Aurors who had been disciplined filed out. They considered themselves lucky. Robards leaned against the wall and watched Amelia. He realized that she had more patient than he might have been in the same circumstance. 

She saw him looking at her. “Not a word, Gwain. I could have fired all six of them. They sure as hell deserved it. As it was, the Wizengamot has a body that it can beat up on now, in retribution for attacking one of its own, even if they don’t like having to do it.”

“Amelia, you misunderstand me. I was actually hoping you were going to fire all of them. It would have given me an excuse to recruit some up-and-coming talent. As it is now, I can hire only one more, but she’s such an amazing candidate that I can’t wait to see her go through the academy. She’s going to scorch it.”

“Who is it?”

“Nymphadora Tonks-Black. She’s a Metamorph and an absolute ace at potions. One of the smartest students that Hogwarts has produced in some time. She’s now teaching potions to the first-through third-year students at Hogwarts and they  _ love _ her. She’s taught the kids the basics so well that they are going to absolutely  _ crush _ the OWL’s when they get to them.”

“Seems like Hogwarts is doubly-blessed then. Apparently, Harley Ross and her lover, Hermione Granger”

Gwain interrupted her, “Lover?”

“This is an official secret, Gwain and I don’t want to have to invoke your oaths to this department, but yes, Hermione Granger is Harley Ross’s lover. They are a bonded pair, and they are both Magi.”

Gwain’s jaw hit the ground. “Magi?” he finally said, dry-mouthed and shocked.

“Magi. Those two are the most powerful students in the school and when they get through their final magical maturations, they will rival, if not surpass Dumbledore.”

“Holy shit, Amelia. Are you serious?”

Amelia nodded. “Rufus was lucky today. I saw Auror Stephens after Harley was finished with him. She choked him with magic, after lifting him up off the ground with just her will. She could have killed him easily. She did it wandlessly, soundlessly, and more importantly,  _ casually _ . It was as if she was swatting a fly.”

“I’m going to have to tell the Corps. to leave those two alone then, unless they have absolute cause not to.”

“That would be a very good idea, Gwain. We can’t afford to have the general public doubt our effectiveness, but we also can’t just casually lose Aurors for no reason. Attacking the First of the Twenty-Eight for no cause is throwing lives away.”

“It’s infuriating that she’s what… 12? 13? And she has that much power, magical and otherwise.”

“She’s 11, as far as we know.”

“Fuck. When I was 11, I was a snot-nosed kid who had no idea which way was up, most of the time.”

“Don’t feel bad, Gwain. When I was 11, I was still playing with dolls, climbing trees with the boys, swimming naked with them in the local pond, and being indifferent to what was going on in the world.”

“So, what do you want me to do? You still need to talk to those two about….?”   
“It’s about something I cannot discuss, for a variety of reasons. First, you’re not cleared for it, and second, if you knew about it, you’d wish you didn’t.”

“Then what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to use my niece. It will be quicker, quieter, and will probably be received a lot better than 6 stupid fucking Aurors, led by a snot-nosed brat.”

“Be careful, Ami. If it’s as sensitive as you say, then you better have protection with you when you go to speak to her.”

“No. It’s not like that, Gwain. The girl isn’t a threat to me. I know her mother and she and I are friends. No, I just really need to ask her some questions and get her perspective on a few things. We can do a meeting in Hogsmeade without a problem.”

“Your call. Just be careful.”

Amelia nodded and watched him go out the door. Once he was gone, Amelia called out, “Gloria, get Saul Croaker.”

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Things went, more or less, back to normal for Hermione and Harley and all of their friends. The loss of Severus Snape had done nothing to the school but brighten the attitude of the students. Albus, as the only other qualified Potions teacher available, had taken over the sixth and seventh-year students and the change was palpable. Students  _ clambered _ to go to class. It was heady, exciting. The students knew they were learning from the only Alchemist in all of Europe and the discoverer of the Twelve uses of Dragon’s blood. The library was in near-constant use, to the point where the head librarian, Madam Pince, had to take on several student assistants. 

Weeks passed and while the work-loads of the students intensified, the morale of the students stayed high. Students and teachers alike waited for the start of the spring Quidditch trials and the All-UK National Team Draft Night. Bets were made about who was going to make it onto the team. There was talk about what would happen if a fight came over a draftee between the Irish National Team and the All-UK Team. 

Harley and Hermione didn’t really care. Yes, Harley loved Quidditch and Hermione went along for the ride most of the time, but their true passion was for their studies. They were learning magic at an amazing rate and taking their friends along with them. Secretly, the two of them hoped to take the OWL’s by their third year, just to be done with them. They both wanted to sit for the International NEWTS in every subject and that was going to take them three years of preparation, they were sure. 

They also knew that something was coming. Something evil. Their research told them that Voldemort wasn’t going to be content to be a free-roaming, class Five vapor forever. He was going to try to get a body and if he did, the shit was going to hit the fan. 

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**Mid-morning, Malfoy Estate, Kielder Island, just north of Falstone, UK – Friday, February 28, 1992**

Lucius Malfoy looked out over the lake where his house was situated. The lake wasn’t frozen, but the winds were cold and a person could have been forgiven for wondering why the lake wasn’t frozen. 

A house-elf, one of ones belonging to the household, suddenly appeared in the living-room. “Master Malfoy, Sir?” 

Lucius turned and stared at the elf. “What is it?”

“Pardon, Sir. Dobby is bringing a gift from your son and a letter, sir. Where should I be putting it, sir?”

“Oh? Well, put on the table, Dobby. I will look at it in a moment.”

“Yes, sir.” Dobby put the package on the table and popped away.

Curiosity got the better of Lucius and he made his way over to the table. He saw the note and the package and wondered what was going on. Picking up the letter, he started reading.

**28 February 1992**

**Dearest Father,**

** I was asked to send this package to you. I’ve checked it for everything and it’s clean. I had Angus Flint check it as well and he said it was clean. I know you’ll check it too, but you won’t find anything, since I am assured that it was sent with no ill will.**

**I don’t know what the package contains, but I was told by Professor McGonagall that you may like it a great deal. Please let me know what it is? **

**Love,**

**Draco**

Now Lucius was very curious as to what was going on. Using his personal Athame, he cut the package open and stepped back. 

The package opened, seemingly by itself, and unfolded and unfolded, until it was a crate that was 6 feet across, 8 feet long, and 4 feet high. It took up a major portion of his living-room floor. Tacked to the top of it was another letter. Not helping himself, he snatched it up and started reading.

**27 February 1992**

**Dear Lord Malfoy,**

** On behalf of the House of Ross, I ask your forgiveness for my mother’s actions against you at the end of July of last year. They were uncalled for and I am sure hurt you a great deal. I wish to set that hurt aside and return to peace and patience between our Houses. I have enclosed a gift that I have been told will please you. It’s my hope that you’ll be able to use these items to find a wand that truly fits a man of your stature and power. **

**Respectful Regards,**

**Harley Janel Ross**

**House of Ross**

Lucius sat back, astounded. That the First of the Twenty Eight would write and ask his forgiveness was something that was just not done. Not that it wasn’t appreciated, but it just wasn’t done. No greater house would ask forgiveness from a lesser house like his… and yet here was the First of the Twenty eight, doing just that. It made him wonder just what kind of girl this Harley Ross really was or whether it was a con, to set him up. But for what? He wasn’t a man who liked puzzles, but she was quickly becoming a puzzle that defied his understanding. Did she not know his standing with the Dark Lord? Or did she simply not care? Or was it that she was so powerful that he just didn’t matter? And which of those options was worst? He had to talk to somebody. Yaxley was out, for a variety of reasons. Thorfin Rowle was out as well. Bellatrix… was in Azkaban. So was her husband. Perhaps Igor Karkaroff? Or Augustus Rookwood? Yes, maybe. He had to talk to  _ someone _ . 

In the meantime though, the box in front of him begged to be opened. Using magic, he pried the lid off it and set it aside. What he found baffled him.  _ My God. Some of these are … a thousand years old! No one has ever seen these before? Where in Merlin’s name did she find these? And why is she sending them to me? Recompense for my wand? Yes… but over and over and over again.  _

Lucius sat back, after pawing through all of the brooms, and was at a genuine loss as to what to do. Harley Ross had sent him a gift worth hundreds of thousands of Galleons and that was being conservative.  _ Why? _ And then the answer came to him. It should have been obvious.  _ Because she’s rich, you fool. She’s First of the Twenty Eight. She doesn’t care about the money because this would be a drop in the bucket for her. _

So, Harley Janel Ross had three things in vast quantities: Magical power, political power (though she probably didn’t know how much), and wealth. And she was, by legal definition, a Pure-blood. So what was he to do about that? Making her an enemy was just dumb, self-defeating, and unpalatable. The other alternative was…? But, how does one go about making friends with an 11 year-old girl?  _ Through Draco, of course. God, am I stupid sometimes. _

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

What Lucius didn’t know and what he could not have known, was that Harley and Hermione were a great deal more aware of their situation than Lucius could have suspected. Reading does that for a person. They read everything, from the  _ London Times _ to the  _ Daily Prophet _ (one more carefully than the other, for obvious reasons) to the  _ New York Cauldron _ . 

The Room of Requirement, which they had found by accident on their third day in the Castle, had come as a bit of a shock to both of them, but they weren’t stupid. They knew a gold mine when they saw one. It was their personal treasure-chest. It had taken them from the moment that they had discovered the room until Christmas break, working almost every afternoon, to explore, organize, and catalog it. 

The things they had discovered hidden in the room had almost defied belief, as did the  _ size _ of the room. The two best things that they had found were the collection of Brooms, the collection of wands, and the jewelry. The only exception to the “awesome” category was Tiara that they had discovered, which had a taint to it so evil that neither one of them could go anywhere near it. It had been set aside, because they didn’t know what to do with it.

The books… well, there was nothing as fun as watching Hermione swoon to each new discovery. When everything was said and done, more than four hundred books were added to their joint, personal library. Harley counted that as a total win. It hadn’t hurt that she had been able to get the ancient copy of “Hogwarts, A History” out of the room, and secretly, without Hermione knowing about it, until Hermione’s birthday had arrived. 

The wands and weapons that they had found in the Room, they had removed to their own personal storage. The alcohol that they had found, and there was a lot of it, they had cataloged but otherwise left alone, since there was no telling how long it had been there or if it was still good. 

The balance of the room were things like rugs, furniture, and various and sundry pieces of clothing. Each item was searched for money, the doing of which turned up a considerable pile of Galleons – which was nice, but not life-changing. The clothing item was then set aside. Separately, the girl’s panties were a funny discovery. They were surprised by the sheer number of them that somehow made their way into the room – more than three hundred. 

It had taken them a long time to shrink down the furniture and set it aside, but it was worth it. It made the resulting room  _ huge _ . “ _ Can you imagine what we can do with this much room?”  _ Hermione had asked, once they were finished.

“ _ Indoor Quidditch!”  _ was Harley’s immediate reply. Hermione swatted her for that. 

“ _ No! Think about it. We could play Football in here or set up a massive game room for pool or tennis or anything else! Think about how much fun everyone would have!” _

_ “Do we really want to tell everyone about this room? What if we kept it for our friends only, so that we had a place to practice spells and stuff?” _ Hermione answered. 

Ultimately, Harley had to concede that, for the moment, it was worth it to keep the room secret. Doing so had been incredibly profitable so far and having somewhere to practice spells made a great deal of sense. 

“ _ What do we do with the wands?” _ Harley asked as they walked out of the room one afternoon. 

_ “Don’t know. I think we should ask your mother. I lost count after like… 500. Maybe we show them to Ollivander? He could tell us to whom the wands had belonged. Maybe we return them to the families?” _

They talked as they walked, holding hands and thinking about the future. They had no idea what it would bring but were excited about all that they were learning and what they had accomplished so far. It felt good to be a witch, even in such an old and drafty castle. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Tuesday, March 31, 1992 – Hogwarts Great Hall, 7am**

March was exiting Scotland like a lion, which was to say that the school was still up to its neck in snow. It had been a rough winter and the entirety of the school was anxious to get outside. 

Hermione and Harley had dragged themselves to the Great Hall for breakfast, even though neither really felt like doing so. The hot shower that each of them had luxuriated in before breakfast had helped, but it was still cold in the castle and they, and their roommates, could feel the cold in their bones. 

As they sat at breakfast, drinking their coffee, the post-owls arrived. Hermione felt bad for the birds, except for the snowy owl who had taken a liking to Harley. They named her Hedwig. Hedwig was a greedy-guts for bacon and would stand at the middle of the table, helping herself to pieces, until the plate was empty. Hermione was positive that the bacon could not be good for her, but who was she to tell the owl  _ no. _

There was an excited murmur of voices as the morning’s  _ Daily Prophet _ was circulated. Hermione was just about to pull out one of the advanced transfiguration textbooks when Draco Malfoy walked over to where they sat. Both Hermione and Harley stood when he approached and curtsied to him. Not deep curtsies, but enough to show him that they recognized his standing as scion of his house. He looked at them, surprised, and then bowed a shallow bow, which symbolized his acknowledgement of their courtesy. Harley spoke first, since she was First of the Twenty-Eight and could do so without fear of disrespecting him. “Scion Malfoy. Good morning. What brings you over?”

Draco looked at them and actually smiled. “Good morning, Lady Ross. I bring a note from my father, Lord Malfoy, in recognition of your courteous note to him in February. If you read this morning’s edition of the  _ Prophet _ , you will see the fruits of your letter and your gift to him. He wished me to tell you that your gift was so unexpected that he had to consult a fair number of people, in order to appreciate it properly.” Draco handed her the tightly rolled parchment that bore the wax seal of the House of Malfoy.

Harley smiled.  _ Bingo _ . “Scion Malfoy. Thank you. Please tell your father, Lord Malfoy, that it is the hope of the House of Ross that relations between our two houses will be based in kindness and peace, and that any questions that arise be treated with forthrightness and directness. The House of Ross wishes to be known for its honesty, integrity, and the way that it treats its friends and associates.”

People all around them had stopped talking and were listening to the interaction intently. What was happening was a big deal in the minds of many and would form the basis of a great number of letters home, just as soon as it was practical to send them.

Draco Malfoy looked at Hermione and said, “Lady Dagworth-Granger, Lord Malfoy extends his best wishes to you and congratulates you on your emergence into our world as its newest Wizengamot member. The House of Dagworth was known as an honorable house and a valuable trading partner in its time. My lord also wishes me to tell you that he hopes every happiness for you in your relationship with the Lady Ross and will do what he can to support and defend your relationship when he deals with other members in the Wizengamot, who are not as enlightened as he.”

Hermione knew a ploy when she heard one, but she wasn’t about to disappoint Harley or say anything that could cause a problem. “Scion Malfoy. Thank you and thank Lord Malfoy for his kindness and support. As the House of Dagworth-Granger grows, we will not forget or friends, nor turn our heads away if someone attempts to disparage the good name of Malfoy.”

Draco seemed very pleased at her words. “Please read my lord’s missive. If you have a reply, I will be happy to bear it for you.”

Harley smiled. “Thank you, Scion Malfoy. We appreciate you, your generosity, and your leadership in teaching us the etiquette that we needed to know as we came into this life. It would have been very embarrassing to learn that we were acting outside of the expectations of demeanor and civility.”

Draco was almost bursting with pride at her words. “Anytime, Lady Ross. My help is yours, whenever you need it.”

“We are overwhelmed, Scion Malfoy. Unfortunately, we are keeping you from your breakfast and that is unconscionable. We wish you a good day. Perhaps we can eat together tomorrow evening?”

“It would be my pleasure. Good day.”

“And to you, Scion Malfoy!”

With that, Draco walked back to his table. The level of conversation jumped up considerably and there were notes being scribbled furiously, at each of the four tables, as certain people made efforts to record everything that they had just heard. Hermione and Harley made notes as well, of the people they saw writing. Their private information network, while by no means complete, had already relayed the names of people who were suspect or worth watching, and of those names, the few who might pose an actual threat to them. 

Hermione took a long draw on her coffee and then unrolled the note from Lucius.

**30 March 1992**

**Lady Harley Janel Ross**

**House of Ross**

**Hogwarts **

**Dear Lady Ross:**

** I was at a loss to know how to respond to your immense generosity and so this missive was delayed, as I contemplated how to meet your kindness and the respect that you showed me. I was frankly not expecting to have the Lady of the House of Ross apologize to me and it struck me as surprising that I was asked for forgiveness. Given the kindness of your letter, how could I not forgive? **

**I want you to know that the collection of antique brooms that you sent me will form the basis for a new Quidditch museum in London. It is my intention to call it, The Ross Collection. I thought it fitting that your generosity should be recognized.**

**May this be the start of a strong relationship between our two houses.**

**Best regards,**

**Lucius, Lord Malfoy**

**House of Malfoy**

“Well?”

“I don’t know, sweetie. I think we need your mom’s help. We want to draw him all the way in before we cut his legs out from underneath him… that is, if we have to at all, which we might not. Let’s send it off in today’s package and see what she says.”

Harley looked at her lover and said, “You’re right. But I think we’re missing something. Let’s get a copy of the  _ Prophet _ and see what’s been said.”

Finally, they snagged a copy of the paper and smoothed it out on the table, so that they could read it together.

** _House of Malfoy declares “Gift to the Country”_ **

** _By Rita Skeeter_ **

** _31 March 1992_ **

** _In an unprecedented move, Lord Lucius Malfoy has moved to create a brand new ‘Quidditch Museum for the Ages’ and will be locating this exciting new philanthropic effort in the Heart of London, right next to the Ministry for Magic. _ **

** _“I was recently gifted a collection of antique brooms by the Lady Ross, of the House of Ross. Some of which are almost 1,000 years old! Her amazing generosity prompted me to want to share my good fortune with the nation. I have contacted the leading broom makers from around the world and they have promised to contribute to this great new effort.”_ **

** _This museum, which will house not just brooms through the ages, but Quidditch gear, photos and stories about the great players throughout history. Lord Malfoy hopes to see a new effort to recognize great players when they retire, so that their stories can be shared and they can continue to inspire new players. _ **

** _The UK Premier Quidditch league, when told about this new effort by Lord Malfoy, immediately signed on. Sigbe Warble, the spokeswoman for the League, said “We are astonished by Lord Malfoy’s generosity and are thrilled to be able to help. We will, of course, transfer all of those items that we were going to put into our own museum, to Lord Malfoy’s care, so that he can have a master archivist organize and display them properly. _ **

** _The Daily Prophet wished to speak with Lady Ross about where she found the amazing collection that she gifted to Lord Malfoy, but she was unavailable for comment, owing to her status as a student at Hogwarts, which is protective of its students’ privacy. We, here at the Daily Prophet, understand that need for privacy, but invite the Lady Ross to comment, if she is able to do so. _ **

Hermione looked at Harley and they touched foreheads for a moment. She really wanted to drag Harley back to their bedroom and kiss her stupid, but there wasn’t time for that at the moment. “I love you, Harley. I am really proud of you.”

“I love you too, ‘Mione. I couldn’t do anything without you.”

Hermione blushed and said softly, “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, love”. 

Their ‘mush-moment’ was watched, not just by their roommates, but by others as well. Some of the girls in the Hall poked their boyfriends and complained quietly that the boys weren’t nearly as affectionate or considerate as the two first-years were to each other and that they should be or maybe they’d find new boyfriends. 

Draco saw it too, as did the girls around him. He wondered if he’d be able to do that with a girl, but something in him rejected the idea. Girls were just not as appealing as…boys. The thought scared him.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Slytherin Common Room, around 8pm that evening.**

Vincent Crabbe, Greg Goyle, Draco Malfoy, and Pansy Parkinson were all sitting at the low table in front of the fireplace, above which hung the oversized portrait of Salazar Slytherin. They were all working on what might otherwise have been third-year Transfiguration. 

Draco looked up when the door to the common-room banged open and two seventh-year students, Felix Brunt and Terrance Higgs, came in. Seeing Draco, they made a straight line for him. Their wands were out. 

“You! Malfoy! Our fathers have a message for you, for associating with lesbians and Gryffindors.  _ Crucio!” _

Goyle, Crabbe, and Parkinson screamed in sympathetic horror as Draco fell to the floor, screaming in pain and terror. All eyes were on the scene, except for one pair, belonging to Tracy Davis which, even in the moment, was fleeing the horror and running to the one person who could do something about it.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Nine flights of stairs, tears streaming down her face, Tracy ran. There was only one person who could deal with what had happened and she knew right where to find her – at the portrait of the Fat Lady, on Gryffindor landing, in the North Tower. Her luck held as a Gryffindor prefect was just coming out of the common room. Tracy grabbed her. 

“Please… please help. I need to see Lady Ross. It’s an emergency!”

The girls’ eyes came up and looked at her. “Give me a moment.”

The girl darted back inside and started yelling. That’s all Tracy heard, before both Harley Ross and Hermione Granger came pelting out of the portal. They saw Tracy, trembling. “What gives?”

“Come with me. We’ve got to hurry! You have your wands?”

“Of course!”

“Then let’s go! We’ve got to hurry!”

Hermione and Harley followed the fleeing Slytherin first-year as fast as they could, down all nine flights of stairs. Tracy opened the portal as fast as she could and led them inside. “Where’s Draco?”

“Being sick, in the 1 st year boy’s head”.

Tracy raised her wand and fired a powerful stinging hex. “GO GET HIM, YOU FUCKWAD!”

Harley looked at her, amazed. “What’s going on? Why did you need us?”

Tracy turned to them and explained the situation as quickly as possible. When she was finished, Harley’s eyes were a very, very angry shade of green and Hermione could feel the power flowing off her. 

“Where are the two who did this?”

“Seventh year common room. All the way at the top of the stairs.” She pointed at the stairs with her wand.

“Come on, Hermione, we have something we need to do.”

Hermione simply nodded. She knew, or at least she thought she knew, that Harley wasn’t going to kill anyone. Maime them? That was certainly in the cards, for sure. Harley really, really didn’t like bullies. And she didn’t like people who abused power, especially against children. 

Hermione positioned herself so as to guard the way, so that Harley had the time to do what she needed to do. Hermione watched as her wife went up the stairs, alone. A door opened and then closed. There was screaming. Lots and lots of screaming. Four minutes later, Harley appeared in the Slytherin main common room, looking sad but resolute. Hermione had stayed with Draco, looking as sick and awful as anyone they had ever seen. Harley went over to him, caressed his face, and said something quiet to him. He nodded and then laid back. Hermione whispered something and Draco’s eyes fell shut. He was asleep. Together, they levitated him out of the common room, and up towards the infirmary. There was a small parade of first-year Slytherins who followed; wanting to make sure that ‘their guy’ was alright. 

When they got to the infirmary, Hermione pushed open the door and levitated Draco to a bed in the far corner, where he would have privacy. She then went and found Poppy Pomfrey. Speaking quickly and quietly, she explained the situation and pointed to where Draco lay in the bed. Poppy saw Harley sitting next to Draco, holding his hand. She wondered just what in the Hell had happened to the dynamics in Hogwarts such that two Gryffindors had come to the rescue of a Slytherin. 

Poppy replaced Harley at Draco’s bedside. Harley stood and walked to where Hermione and the first-year Slytherins stood. “We’ve got things to do. The shit’s going to hit the fan when what Hermione and I had to do is discovered. We’ve got letters to write immediately. Can any of you help by getting ahold of your family Heads? This whole situation is going to need to be explained to them.”

“Whatever you need, Harley” Pansy Parkinson said. 

“Ditto” said both Crabbe and Goyle.

“Good. Please get to it. We don’t have a lot of time before the Headmaster and McGonagall hear about all of this.”

The kids all dispersed, heading for their preferred writing spots. Harley and Hermione made a bee-line for their dorm-room, because that was where their writing things were and where they could create secure documents. They were going to need both before the night was over.

Hedwig found herself pushed into action much earlier in the evening that she preferred. She usually liked to hunt between 4 and 8 am, which was usually the perfect timing for hunting, eating, and then going to get the post for her mistress. “Go girl. Please. Go right to the address on the envelope and make sure that Lord Malfoy gets the letter.”

Hedwig nipped Harley’s nose affectionately and then flew out the upper window and towards the midlands, where the Malfoys made their home. 

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**Malfoy Estate, Kielder Island, just north of Falstone, UK – just after 10:30 pm**

Lucius Malfoy was just about to go to bed when a Snowy owl tapped on his window, near his bed. It was an odd time of night to be receiving an owl, but late usually meant trouble, so he roused himself and let the owl in. She was holding up a green envelope, the black writing on it. It was addressed directly to him and had the word  _ urgent _ on it.

Tearing the envelope open, without using his Athame, he took the one page of paper out and read it. 

**8:40 pm**

**Lord Malfoy – **

** This is urgent. Your son Draco was attacked tonight, using the Cruciatus Curse. His attackers were Felix Brunt and Terrance Higgs. I have avenged Draco in your name. The Brunt and Higgs families will need new heirs and I have delivered the message that the House of Malfoy does not stand alone. Draco is in the infirmary, being treated by Madame Pomfrey, even as I write this. Tracy Davis, at great personal risk to herself, came and found me and Hermione. She deserves your thanks. Right now, Pansy Parkinson, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle are standing guard for your son. There will be other Slytherins who will stand up for him too, but you should know those names.**

**Please – get here soon. Your son needs you.**

**Regards,**

**Harley Janel Ross**

**House of Ross**

**Hermione Dagworth Granger,**

**House of Dagworth**

Lucius sat back, stunned. This was the second time that Harley Ross had done something extraordinary for him and his family. He shook his head. He really didn’t understand what the world was coming to, but he knew that he had an obligation to honor what had been done to protect his son and his family. 

Rousing his wife, Narcissa, Lucius explained what had just happened. She looked mortified, but resolute. “I need you to care for Draco, love, when we get to Hogwarts. I will deal with Dumbledore.”

“No one will get near Draco.”

“Except his friends, love.” He pushed the letter to her, so that she could read it for herself. When she had finished reading it, she nodded her agreement about Draco’s friends.

When she was dressed appropriately, they held hands and apparated to the gates of Hogwarts, where they knocked on the great, brass knocker which would alert the Groundskeeper, Rubeus Hagrid. It took two minutes before they were let onto the grounds and another four, before they were able to enter the castle proper. 

Narcissa made her way, with haste, to the infirmary, while Lucius made his way to the Slytherin common room. He hadn’t been in the common room for years, but he noted that very little had changed.

There was a great deal of shock that the Lord Malfoy was among them. Several of the students almost forgot their manners when they asked who he was. Etiquette wasn’t lost on all of them though. Several of the girls lined up and curtsied to him properly and the young men bowed respectfully to him and then waited to be spoken to. He was impressed and said so. “Now, which of you kind girls are Pansy Parkinson and Tracy Davis?”

Two of the four stood forward. “We are, Lord Malfoy. I am Tracy Davis, sir, and this is Pansy Parkinson.”

He took their hands and kissed each in turn. “Ladies, you have done service to the House of Malfoy this night. My debt to you is inexpressible. Thank you. For me, my son, and my House.” He stood back and looked around. “Now, Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe. Where are you?”

“Here, my Lord.” Gregory said, standing next to his friend, Vincent Crabbe. 

“You two were willing to guard my son and protect him. Thank you. I owe you as well and I do not forget such things. Now, who saw the attack on my son?”

Three of them stood forward. “I need copies of your memories, if I may?”

The three didn’t know how to do that, so he showed them the way of it. Once they saw it, they were able to replicate it easily and he was impressed with the facile nature of their wand-work. They didn’t act like first-year students, certainly. 

Once he had the memories safely tucked away, he thanked the students once again and left the Slytherin common room. The hard conversation was ahead of him, but before he got there, he had one more stop to make.

One challenge was that the Slytherin common room was near the basement of Hogwarts, while his objective was up on the fifth floor. He shook his head. The building hadn’t changed at all really, but  _ he _ surely had. Going up five sets of stairs was a long climb!

_ I’m going to need some serious Fire whiskey when this is all done! _ He started up, using his cane when he had to, which was much more often than he had ever needed it before. By the time he reached the fifth floor, his knees and feet were screaming at him. He turned right and saw the picture of the Fat Lady.  _ Finally _ , he thought. He approached her and said stiffly, “Madame, I am Lord Lucius Malfoy. I would like to speak with the Lady Ross. Would you announce me, please?”

She looked down at him from her painting. He was such a handsome man! Powerful grey eyes and he was tall! Oh my! “I will announce you, kind sir. Please wait here for a moment.”

It was less than a minute later when the portrait opened and Harley Ross stepped out, along with Hermione Granger. Both girls dropped into curtsies before rising to greet him. “Lord Malfoy. Welcome.” Harley extended her hand, which Lucius kissed very lightly. “I am very sorry that your visit here was because of something so awful. Come with me. Let’s find somewhere to speak.”

Across from the entrance to the Gryffindor common was a long hall and several infrequently used classrooms. Harley and Hermione led Lucius into one of them. Lucius watched as Hermione banished all of the dust wandlessly and summoned balls of light, which she made hang in mid-air. It was such a casual use of wandless magic that he almost forgot that these were  _ first-year students. _

“Lord Malfoy, I want to say that I am very, very sorry if I am the cause of your son being assaulted. I would have asked him to speak with me privately, if I had even so much as suspected that  _ anything _ could happen to him. Please forgive my lack of foresight.”

Lucius looked at her, as if she had three heads. “Lady Ross. You must stop. You are taking onto your shoulders responsibility for something that is clearly not your fault. I appreciate your immense kindness in racing to contact me after it happened and even more, I am grateful that you defended Draco by striking back against his attackers. I just hope that you’ve not brought on yourself the anger of the likes of Higgs and Brunt.”

“My Lord Malfoy, I don’t worry about them. Neither of them is the man he once was... at least not anymore. They will be pulled from the school, I am sure, because otherwise they will try to strike back and I will kill them both. They know that. I know that.”

“You… ?”

“I castrated them, sir. Entirely. They screamed. Not any louder than your son, sir. The difference is that they deserved it. Your son didn’t.”

Hermione added, “Draco is a superb flyer and he is a very bright student. He studies with us... well, kind of. We teach his friends and they show him what they’ve learned. We’ve tried to encourage him to sit with us directly, but he has been nervous about being seen sitting with us after class. We understand that. We’re not going to give up though.”

“Are you the two who taught him how to do the inverted Immelmann?”

Harley nodded. “I showed it to him one and he went off and immediately did it. Like Hermione just said, Draco is a superb flyer. If he didn’t fly angry, he’d be even better. I’ve wanted to tell him that he has to fly happy. If you fly angry, you can get hurt. My mother taught me that.”

“I… shall endeavor to tell him that. Is there anything else that I need to know before I go and have words with Dumbledore?”

Hermione grinned. “Don’t look him in the eyes, my Lord. He’s a Legillimancer and can take your thoughts without you even knowing it. We got contacts, which are like really little glass panels that lay right on your eye, which block his attacks. The best you can do is make your glasses into one-way mirrors. All Dumbledore would see are the mirrors and he’d not be able to focus on your thoughts.”

“Oh, don’t turn your back to him. Back out of his office, and make sure you have your wand accessible. We’ve been told over and over again that Albus Dumbledore  _ is not your friend _ . He is in it for Albus and no one else. He’s not above trying to modify your memory or something if you’re not watching.”

Lucius sat back, stupefied. He could not believe that he had just been warned off Albus Dumbledore by a pair of first-years. “I don’t know what to say. I feel myself tremendously in your debt and I don’t know where to go with it.”

“Don’t worry about it, Lord Malfoy. Harley and I are not in this to collect debts. Draco just didn’t deserve to be hurt and we hope that we’d be able to do the same for any first-year student.”

“If I tell my wife that, she’s going to cry. She’ll want to hug the life out of both of you.”

Harley snickered. “Sounds like my mother.”

“Come, Lord Malfoy. Let us accompany you as far as Dumbledork’s office.”

Lucius looked at Harley and started laughing. “Dumbledork?”

Hermione nodded, and then started laughing too.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Dumbledore’s office – 11:30 pm**

Albus Dumbledore was not a happy man. He had two seventh-year Slytherins permanently castrated and one first-year Slytherin in the Infirmary with extended Cruciatus exposure. And now, he had an angry, dangerous father and member of the Wizengamot to deal with before he could get to bed. 

His frustration was that the cost of castrating the scion of a lesser, minor house was Wergild, often paid in Galleons or in minor favors, while the use of the Cruciatus Curse was punishable by a lifetime stay in Azkaban. Further, castrating the elder son of a lesser, minor house might be viewed as completely justifiable if done, as it was, by the First of the Twenty-eight, in defense of an acknowledged ally. In other words, there’s nothing that he could do to the Lady Ross. She was beyond his reach and due to her financial strength and the number of seats that she controlled in the Wizengamot, untouchable by any of his current tools. 

Lucius Malfoy was in high dungeon by the time he entered the Headmaster’s office and he didn’t hold back. Harley really wanted to be a fly on the wall when the yelling began, but she had no real, legitimate reason to do so. She did, though, have an excuse to go and see Draco. 

The Infirmary was quiet and dark. There was some moonlight coming in from the high windows, but that was it. Draco was at the far end of the infirmary, on the left, tucked up in a corner. Pansy Parkinson was on her side, facing him, but above the covers and still dressed. Harley walked the room quietly and found a dressing gown that was heavy enough to keep her warm. She walked back and looked at the girl. There was a smile on her face, despite the fact that she was asleep. Harley thought about what she wanted to do and then performed the magic. It switched Pansy out of her clothes and into the sleeping gown. Harley frowned. She hadn’t meant to switch the girl out of her underwear as well.  _ Oh well. Gotta remember that for the next time. _ Harley stole the blanket off the next bed and covered Pansy with it, so that she’d be warm as well. Harley piled Pansy’s folded clothes on a chair next to the bed and then took her leave. 

On her way out, she silenced the doors so that they wouldn’t creak or make any kind of noise. That allowed her to slip out without disturbing anyone. She was just about to head up the stairs when she saw a woman with striking black hair, elegantly but conservatively dressed, sitting on the stairs. She realized who it must be.

“Lady Malfoy?” Harley said softly.

Narcissa had been so alone in her thoughts that the voice startled her. She looked up.

“Lady Malfoy? I’m Harley Ross. I just checked on Draco. He’s asleep and seems to be alright. Pansy Parkinson was there with him. She was sleeping on top of the covers, still dressed, so I covered her with a blanket as well and then slipped out. I wanted you to know how sorry I am that this happened to Draco. He didn’t deserve to be hurt like that.”

Narcissa looked at the raven-haired girl and her penetrating, intense green eyes and then burst into tears again and hugged her. Harley was half-expecting it, so she let it happen. She really did feel bad for Draco and figured that Mrs. Malfoy did too. The Cruciatus Curse was the very worst curse for causing pain that anyone knew about and she couldn’t imagine why two seventh-year students would think it the right thing to do.

“Thank you” Narcissa said as she hugged Harley. 

“Anytime, Mrs. Malfoy. Draco’s a good kid. He didn’t deserve to be hurt like that.”

“And you took care of those two awful boys?”

Harley said quietly, “Yea, something like that.”

Narcissa stepped back and looked at her. “I read the letter, but I don’t know what you meant by, “need new heirs”.

“I castrated them, Mrs. Malfoy.” She said bluntly, but with obvious remorse in her voice.

Narcissa winced. “Was that necessary?”

Harley looked at her, her expression more serious. “It was that or kill them, which I wasn’t prepared to do.”

Narcissa stopped cold. The absolute seriousness in the young girl’s voice drew her up short. That the young girl chose inflicting the agony of castration over straight-out homicide meant that she was prepared to kill if necessary, but only if necessary. _Where did such steel come from?_ _Who raised this girl? And why would she defend my son? _

“And you did this in defense of my son?”

“Yes.”

Narcissa started crying and Harley didn’t know what to do with that. It was uncomfortable to see an adult cry at any time, but most especially over something that Harley viewed as a necessary part of life. You defend your friends. Period. End of discussion. If you love someone, you’re ready to lay down your life at any time to protect them. That’s what Isabelle had taught her and that’s what Harley clung to, as a core belief about love.

Finally, Narcissa was able to compose herself. “We owe you, Lady Ross. We owe you more than we can express.”

Harley reached up and with her hand, gently touched the woman’s cheek. “Friends?”

Narcissa laid her hand over Harley’s and said, “Friends”.

“That will do then” Harley said, and she scampered up the stairs, not looking back to see the surprise and the fresh flow of tears on the woman’s face. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Malfoy Estate, Kielder Island, just north of Falstone, UK – just after 2:30 am, the next day**

Narcissa and Lucius sat in the flickering candlelight, in the warmth of their bedroom, drinking hot tea, laced with Irish Whisky. Fire Whiskey was too rough for English tea, Lucius thought, unless you had lost your palate and dignity somewhere else first, but he didn’t dare saw that to his wife. 

“And so Albus said he can’t do anything about the attitudes in Slytherin House. He’s lying, of course.”

“Did he say anything about the two who attacked Draco?”

Lucius snorted. “The bastard said that there’s no what to punish them, because the wands that they used to curse Draco were throw-away wands and couldn’t be found anyway. The only proof that Draco had been cursed was in his symptoms, which can’t be faked – and that those wouldn’t stand up in court.”

“What about Lady Ross?”

“Love, you have to know what a consummate asshole Albus truly is. He said that though no one can prosecute Lady Ross for attacking the two who attacked Draco, it won’t look good in the Wizengamot and she might even be liable to a sanction.”

“Over my dead body.” Narcissa snarled.

“That’s how I feel too, wife, and I never thought I’d ever say that of a Gryffindor! But that girl has done more to show our family respect than anyone in the last ten years. She apologized for what her mother did. That’s one. She sent an amazing gift to make up for it. That’s two. That we made  _ huge  _ money on, no less, and far and away more money than it would ever cost to replace a wand or curb my ‘terribly wounded pride’ at losing my first one, even after setting up the museum. That’s three. She dignified my presence with an amazing display of pureblood etiquette and treated me with deference and even appreciation. That’s four. And now she’s avenged our son, and looked after him, after the fact. That’s five. Tell me that I shouldn’t stand in the well of the Wizengamot and defend her!”

Narcissa actually laughed. “Sounds like someone might be getting soft in his old age.” He looked at her, mortified for a moment, until she smiled at him. “I love you, Lucius. But seriously, if you don’t, I will. This mere slip of a girl asked for nothing more than friendship, before I left her. She put her hand on my cheek and said, ‘friends?’ and I replied, ‘friends’. She actually said, ‘that will do’. I can’t even believe that. She didn’t ask for a favor or anything. Just friendship. Fuck that. Anyone threatens her and I am going to be bullshit. I’ll take my wand to anyone who does.”

“I’m beginning to think that the Dark Lord was a liar. God… I can’t even believe I’m saying that. He told us again and again that blood meant everything. Now I see something else. And her girlfriend, Hermione Dagworth-Granger… she’s no pureblood. I checked. Her parents are muggles. Her patrimony is where the Dagworth family ends, and now begins again.”

“And yet, she honors you when introduced by her politeness and manners when she met you.” Narcissa observed. 

“And she’s taught our son more magic than anyone else. Shown him how to study and apply himself.”

“And that’s all you ever wanted. Draco will be a great man. All we have to do is encourage him.”

“He already flies better than I can. He’s doing transfiguration with a confidence that I didn’t learn until after I left Hogwarts.” That made Narcissa look at her husband with something akin to wonder.

“It’s true, ‘Cissa. Remind me in the morning to show you the bit of transfiguration that he showed me. I couldn’t believe it when I saw it, but I swear to you that it’s real.”

“I’ll hold you to that, husband. Now, hold me and tell me that you love me. I want another child.”

Lucius looked at his gorgeous wife lecherously and said, “I think I can help you there.”

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Hogwarts Infirmary, just after 4am.**

Pansy Parkinson woke up from a sound sleep and looked around, not immediately recognizing where she was. Then she saw Draco laying next to her, but under covers. It took a moment, but everything came flooding back to her, as did the reason that she was in the Infirmary.  _ I was wearing street clothes when I laid down. I’m sure of that. Someone did a switch.  _ She thought to herself. Then she realized that she was no longer wearing panties.  _ Hmmm. Maybe someone did the switch and didn’t remember to leave the panties behind? At least I’m wearing a nightgown! _

Turning on her side, she looked at Draco. Asleep, he looked so incredibly innocent, she thought.  _ You going to be alright, Draco?  _ She wondered. She hoped so. He had been kind to her and had taken her side already, a number of times, when others were picking on her for her chubby cheeks and for her hair-band; the one that her mother had given her just before she had left to come to Hogwarts. 

_ Tempus,  _ she thought. 4:12 am.  _ Too early to get up or to go back to the dorm. Might as well stay here.  _ There was really nothing for it but to curl up by Draco’s side again and go to sleep. If Madam Pomfrey found her in the morning, she’d at least be able to claim that she was sleeping  _ above _ the sheets that surrounded Draco and that nothing inappropriate had happened. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Hogwarts – The Great Hall – just after 7:30 am the next morning; April 2** **nd**

It had been a long couple of nights and both Hermione and Harley were dragging. Though they slept in each other’s arms, their sleep had been disturbed by dreams that were unpleasant, to say the least. 

If it hadn’t been for the help of their roommates, neither girl would have been in proper uniform. Fortunately, they had roommates who really did care about them and who were willing to go out of their way to help.

After her second cup of coffee, Hermione looked at Harley and said, “I think the coffee must be broken, because I’m not awake yet.”

“Or we just haven’t had enough. I wonder if I can find the urn and swim in it? Drink my way to the bottom?”

Hermione snorted. She was so tired. “I wonder if I can be excused from class. We’re only what? 9 months ahead of the syllabus?”

“Something like that. I need a day to sleep.”

She looked up. Why, she didn’t know, but she did. All she saw were post-owls. Like… thirty of them, all at once. Hedwig flew in, landed on Harley’s shoulder, and dropped the  _ Prophet _ on her lap. Harley was already reaching to hand her bacon when the paper landed. Snatching the bacon, Hedwig walked down her arm and then stood on the table next to her, to see what all the fuss was about. 

“I think Hedwig wants to read the paper, love.”

“I got that sense too. Wonder what’s going on this time.”

It didn’t take long to find out. Unrolling the paper, the two saw the banner:

“ **Families Declare War on the House of Ross”**

** _By Rita Skeeter_ **

** _In a move that is sure to provoke controversy, the Houses of Higgs and Brunt have declared War on the House of Ross and a ‘blood feud to the fifth generation’, after the Lady of the House of Ross castrated the scions of the two minor, lesser houses. They claim that it was an unprovoked attack and that they will retaliate with every weapon at their disposal. _ **

** _This declaration of War was met with immediate condemnation, from a number of major houses, including the House of Parkinson, the House of Bulstrode, and the House of Davis. In separate interviews with the Heads of those Houses, the claims of ‘unprovoked attack’ fell apart completely. Witnessed, sworn testimony tells a very different story. _ **

** _“Lady Ross went to war to protect a sworn friend and comrade. Draco Malfoy, Scion of the House of Malfoy, who was attacked using the Cruciatus Curse, by Felix Brunt and Terrance Higgs. Yes, Lady Ross castrated them. She could and should have killed them, but we understand that at her tender age, she might be loathe to do that. As well she should be” said Lord Davis, when I interviewed him yesterday afternoon. _ **

** _Lord Malcom Parkinson was even more direct. He said, “I understand that Lady Ross is young and inexperienced in the ways of the world and is still innocent in so very many things... and I am not one to advocate taking that innocence from her, but honestly? She should have killed the two bastards who attacked Lord Malfoy’s son. Draco is a good boy and didn’t deserve to be attacked with the Cruciatus Curse. Castration seems a small price to pay for use of that Unforgiveable curse.”_ **

** _Lord Bulstrode was similarly blunt. “When I received the news that Draco Malfoy, a young man whom I have met on a number of occasions, was attacked using the Cruciatus Curse, my blood boiled. Lucius Malfoy is an outstanding father and leader of the Grey in the Wizengamot. Further, I would have taken up arms against the two who attacked him, if Lady Ross hadn’t shown the incredible courage and fortitude to do what was necessary to meet out justice and vengeance for Draco’s sake. I am sorry that such a young girl would be placed in the position of having to take up arms to do what an adult should have done, and yes Albus, I’m looking at you, but I am grateful to her that she did. She’s a heroine for her courage and I am glad that we will get to see her grow into her powers as an adult. She will make an excellent member of the Wizengamot.”_ **

** _Lord Malfoy was unavailable for comment, but his wife, Narcissa Malfoy, had this to say, “We are grateful beyond words to Lady Ross and Hermione Dagworth-Granger for their courage in protecting and defending Draco. Anyone who takes up arms against those two will regret it most bitterly.”_ **

** _The Administration of Hogwarts was singularly unavailable for comment, despite repeated attempts, as was the Minister for Magic. Amelia Bones, Head of the DMLE, said this, as she made her way to a meeting, “Retribution is illegal in most cases, even if the provocation is extreme. However, the rules of the Wizengamot give great latitude to the House of Ross, in its role as First of the Twenty Eight and Lady Ross’ actions fall squarely within those rules. We caution her, as we caution everyone, that she does not have Carte Blanche in wielding retribution, but accept that in this case, her actions were allowed.”_ **

** _So little is known about the Lady Ross that it is impossible to predict how she will react to this declaration of war against her. She is known to be a very powerful first-year witch, who has learned far more magic than her standing in school suggests, and it is known that she has passed through her first magical maturity. _ **

** _The Prophet will keep current with this story as it develops. If you, dear reader, have things we ought to see or know, we have a secure owl-post address. Drop us a line or send it by Gringotts Certified Delivery to our headquarters in Diagon Alley. _ **

Albus Dumbledore sat at the Head Table and fumed. All of the school’s students had read or would soon read the story, and Lord Bulstrode’s condemnation of him and that just made it harder to lead the school and the wizarding UK in the direction that he, Albus Dumbledore, thought it should go. Worse, he had to deal with two powerhouse first-year girls; neither of whom gave a hang about his priorities, his leadership, or his position as ‘leader of the light’. They didn’t trust him and they were making sure that other people were learning why they didn’t trust him. His ears were still ringing from the reaming that he had gotten from Lucius just two nights ago, where Lucius, as a member of the Board of Governors of the School, made it quite clear how little he trusted Albus and what he thought of the old man’s leadership. 

_ I’m going to have to deal with little chit at some point… but how? _ Albus’ hands were tied, quite literally, while he was Headmaster of the School. His oaths prevented him from acting in any way, directly or indirectly, that would harm a student. He would have to leave the school in order to be able to get at her... and his power-base would be severely diminished if he did. It was a Catch-22 and he couldn’t figure a way out of it. It was infuriating!

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	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pursuant to the [Berne Convention Implementation Act of 1988](https://www.govtrack.us/congress/bills/100/hr4262) and the [Digital Millennium Copyright Act of 1998](https://www.law.cornell.edu/wex/digital_millennium_copyright_act), 17 U.S.C. §§ 512, 120 1–1 205, this work is copyrighted 2019 with all rights expressly reserved by its author unless explicitly granted. No portion may be reproduced in any fashion, or hosted on any website, without the express written and notarized permission of the author. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own rights to any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of Joanne K Rowling, © 2003, to whom I am deeply indebted. The Harry Potter series is property of Joanne K. Rowling, and Arthur A. Levine Books, Inc., a division of Scholastic Press, Inc., © 2003. I make no money from any of this. WHATEVER CREATIVE MATERIAL IS LEFT IS MINE.
> 
> CONTENT Disclaimer: This story may contain sexually graphic and explicit material and as such, it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now, as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. These stories are just that, stories, and do not promote or condone the activities described herein.

**From Chapter VIII:**

Albus Dumbledore sat at the Head Table and fumed. All of the school’s students had read or would soon read the story, and Lord Bulstrode’s condemnation of him and that just made it harder to lead the school and the wizarding UK in the direction that he, Albus Dumbledore, thought it should go. Worse, he had to deal with two powerhouse first-year girls; neither of whom gave a hang about his priorities, his leadership, or his position as ‘leader of the light’. They didn’t trust him and they were making sure that other people were learning why they didn’t trust him. His ears were still ringing from the reaming that he had gotten from Lucius just two nights ago, where Lucius, as a member of the Board of Governors of the School, made it quite clear how little he trusted Albus and what he thought of the old man’s leadership. _I’m going to have to deal with little chit at some point… but how?_ Albus’ hands were tied, quite literally, while he was Headmaster of the School. His oaths prevented him from acting in any way, directly or indirectly, that would harm a student. He would have to leave the school in order to be able to get at her... and his power-base would be severely diminished if he did. It was a Catch-22 and he couldn’t figure a way out of it. It was infuriating!

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**Monday, April 20, 1992 – Great Hall, Hogwarts, 7:30 am.**

The owls were heavily ladened as they swooped into the Great Hall. The sun was shining and for the first time in a long time, the weather was promising to be glorious. Spring had come reasonably early to this northeastern part of Scotland and people were itching to get outside and fly! Everywhere that Hermione looked, people were hunched over the morning’s paper, absorbing the news. It had become a habit since the declaration of war against the House of Ross and the response of so many houses in support of the House of Ross. “You’re sure that Ted got the letter?”

“Oh yea… I’m sure.” Harley looked at her. The letter from Solicitor Tonks had curled back her ears with its vociferousness. Ted Tonks had been incredibly brutal in his assessment of the first, second, and even third drafts of Harley’s proposed letter to the _Daily Prophet._ However, he did finally accept her need to vent on certain people and that the _Prophet_ wasn’t a bad place to do that.

Hermione had become more than slightly put out at the whole situation and didn’t want to talk about the letter. Rather, she wanted to march straight off and curse the Higgs family and the Brunt family so hard that they wished they had never heard the name Harley Ross. Harley had been more than a little tempted to cut Hermione loose to do exactly what she wanted but knew that going at them through the paper first would serve a wider purpose. Isabelle had also told her that going at them through the paper first, and then sending Hermione after them would look like she was be measured in her response, instead of just wiping out both families, in one fell swoop, which would look like she was being hasty and intemperate. And it wasn’t like they couldn’t, if they felt they had to do it. Some of the books that they had found in the Room of Lost Things contained curses darker than the blackest night. Hermione was sure that some of the curses were straight up worse than the Unforgiveables, but they had been forgotten, or never recorded in the first place, and so were technically ‘legal’. Harley knew that Hermione was ready to rain down Hell on the Higgs and Brunt Families for having the audacity to threaten war against House Ross, but she felt that one step at a time was better for both of them. Finally, when their coffee was done, they took a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ and unrolled it, so that they could read it together.

**House of Ross Answers Declaration of War: “Piss off”**

**By Rita Skeeter **

**20 April 1992**

**The House of Ross has answered. The Daily Prophet is publishing the letter from the Lady Ross, in its entirety, just the way that it was received. We make no apologies for its contents. We were handed the letter and told that it was all or nothing. Given that restriction, we erred on the side of newsworthiness. **

** "To my enemies: Piss off. We are not impressed. We are not intimidated. And we just don’t care what you think you are entitled to do. The House of Ross is older than any other house in the Magical United Kingdom of Great Britain, save for the House of Potter. We are first in Right, as co-founding depositors of Gringotts, and First of the Sacred Twenty-Eight Families. If you move against us, you are declaring yourselves at war with us and with all those who us and support the Rule of Law. I say this now: If the DMLE and the Wizengamot don’t move against you, we will. And when we do, there will be nothing left of your families. You will be destroyed, utterly.**

** I say this as well: The shameful administration that leads Hogwarts allowed this situation to fester. It allowed bigoted attitudes and beliefs to develop. I am disgusted, as you all should be. If a student thinks that he or she has free reign to use one of the Unforgiveables, then Hogwarts has failed. It has failed not just that student, but all students, and by extension, the Magical societies of Europe and the Colonies, by allowing such attitudes to grow unchecked. It’s not just the use of the Unforgiveables that is a problem, but the toleration of bullies within magical society. That starts at schools such as Hogwarts. And Durmstrang, and in others.**

** Finally, let me say this: Blood does not matter. What matters is what you do with your talents and your drive. By birth, I am a half-blood at best. By adoption, maybe a shade more than that. But it doesn’t matter. I’m the number two student here at Hogwarts. The Number One student, among all the students at Hogwarts, is my betrothed, Hermione Jane Dagworth-Granger and she is, by birth, a first-born. Her parents are squibs. Yet there isn’t another first-year student on the whole planet who is better at magic than Hermione. The House of Ross is here to stay. We will defend our friends, encourage our competitors, deal honestly with our trade-partners, lift up the downtrodden, and work magic to create new greatness. If you want to join us in those efforts, then we celebrate your friendship. If, however, you oppose us. We will destroy you. We have no tolerance for bullies, bigotry, or stupidity."**

** Signed**

** Harley Janel Ross**

** Lady of the House of Ross**

**There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. That is the response of the House of Ross. Make of it what you will. We will stay on top of this developing story and all of its ramifications. It is the hope of the _Daily Prophet_ that we do not return to the days of bloodshed and civil war, because one group thought itself better than all others. **

“It’s a good letter, Harley. I know that Ted gave you crap about your earlier versions, but I think you should be proud of the letter. Now, we just have to watch and see what Dumbledork decides to do.”

Albus was far too angry to have the composure necessary to be able to talk to the girl who was quickly becoming his number one nemesis. The staff, such as it was, was beyond angry at him. With Severus gone, there was no one to deflect criticism or to absorb some of the staff’s ire. Everyone who was present was furious – at him and at his ‘values’. Those ‘values’ had led to two students, bigots admittedly, who were permanently maimed and would never have children. That they were young men who had been led astray by both parents and peers meant there were a great number of people who, ultimately, were responsible for the attitudes and beliefs of the two young men: beliefs that told them that attacking a first-year student with an Unforgiveable curse was somehow acceptable.

Minerva was beside herself. She had never been in charge of a school where student-on-student violence had reached such a level. Part of her anger was at the two boys, of course. The Unforgiveables should have seen them tossed in Azkaban permanently, but there wasn't any direct evidence of its use, only the physical effects afterwards, which were impossible to mimic. Their castration, after the fact, was simply beyond the pale, to her way of thinking. Again though, she was caught up short by the fact that it wasn’t just any student doing the castrating, but the First of the Twenty Eight – a position that hadn’t been filled in more than a hundred years. One part of Minerva’s soul wanted to call the girls up short and berate them to within an inch of their lives for what they did to the two boys, but her Gryffindor soul wanted to cheer them on for reaching across houses to defend a young man who might otherwise have been a mortal enemy. The Scots-woman in her wanted to tell the girls that they should have killed the bloody bastards for what they did. Minerva tried to keep that part of her soul under wraps. She wasn’t very nice.

Poppy Pomfrey, on the other hand, took the pragmatic view. Castration, though vile in many ways, was easier to treat than Cruciatus exposure. A penis could be re-grown, for urinary function (though the testicles could not be). Cruciatus exposure did things to the body that could never been fully erased. The mind, once exposed to that kind of pain, ‘retreated’ in a way that was impossible to correct. Long-term Cruciatus exposure led to insanity or loss of one’s magic, due to mental trauma. It ‘disassociated’ one’s magic from a person’s physiological control, which is to say that it makes the pathways in the brain that learn how to wield and control a person’s magic ‘forget’; permanently crippling their ability to wield magic. Though Draco didn’t show any signs of that disassociation, she was watchful. There were a couple of experimental ways of treating it, but they had some *interesting* consequences and she wasn’t sure if the Malfoys would approve. 

Nymphadora Tonks was so angry at the two boys who had hurt her cousin that she had to ask for a week’s leave, simply to keep herself from killing them and finishing the job that Harley started. Hagrid felt similarly. Draco had become a quiet, obedient lad who, in his view, would grow up to be a good man. He did anything Hagrid asked, quickly and without complaint. For that, Hagrid had rewarded him with a flight on Buckbeak, one of his Hippogriffs. Draco had fallen in love with the animal immediately and was often seen tending him; brushing him down, feeding him, polishing his talons, and just generally spending time with him. None of the other students, except for Harley and Hermione, had braved the Hippogriff’s company, simply because he was such a large and intimidating creature.

The loudmouth Weasley, the one who many called ‘moRon’ had tried to make fun of Draco for his relationship with Buckbeak and for his troubles, got his arm almost taken off, by one of Buckbeak’s slashing talons. That was enough to get the red-haired idiot thrown out of the class, permanently. Hermione had been forced to intervene that afternoon, at considerable personal risk, saving the ginger-haired punk from getting killed. Harley had been so worried that Hermione would get hurt that she broke down and cried afterwards. 

The Weasley Twins had been forced, by common decency, as well as family pride, to report Hermione’s actions to their parents, who in turn had to publicly acknowledge a life-debt to Hermione. They didn’t know, and nobody would figure out that the rat that Hermione had used to lure Buckbeak away from Ron had been Ron’s personal rat, Scabbers, who was, in turn, the fugitive, Peter Pettigrew. Ron would end up searching for Scabbers for days, before giving him up as a lost cause. Pettigrew’s death would never be traced back to Hermione. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Harley and Hermione made their way to Transfiguration, which was first period, but they went in order to work on their own projects. They had long since given up even pretending to do what Minerva was teaching, since they were so very far past it. One of Harley’s projects, since she really loved animation, was re-creating Road-Runner - Wiley E. Coyote scenes, along with all of the special effects and sounds. She had made miniaturized versions of both the Coyote and the Road Runner and she made them run around a track, while tripping off various traps, etc. She was working on integrating the sound tracks, but it was proving difficult because there wasn’t a magical equivalent of an MP3 file and she didn’t know how to store the music or embed it anywhere in the scene such that it could play back appropriately. Hermione, on the other hand, was working on a chess board, with animated chess pieces, that would experience weather effects, depending on whether or not they were winning or losing. If they were winning, it would be bright and sunny on their part of the board, but if they were losing, it would be snowing, raining, thunder-storming, etc. Hail was proving difficult, because it kept bouncing all over the board and ruining the other weather-effects. She knew she could conquer the challenge but keeping the effect within the square where the chess-piece stood was very hard to do, since it required such precise runes, inscribed on the board itself.

What the two girls were doing was sufficiently interesting that eventually, Minerva lost control of the class (again) as the students gathered around and watched the two working on their projects. Neither Hermione nor Harley knew that what they were doing was beyond NEWT level and that Minerva was about to blow her top. She watched the two girls work and then finally said, “OK. That’s god-damned well enough. I’m tired of you two taking over my class every day. You two teach the god-damned class, if you’re going to do this.” And with that, she stormed out.

Harley looked at Hermione and shrugged. She got up, walked over to the where the lesson planner lay on the front desk, looked at it, closed it and said, “Alright. So you’re working on inanimate to animate transfiguration. You’ve done that already with the Palladium ingots. Let’s move on. It says that the next lesson is transfiguring dissimilar items and building something with it. Any ideas of what we should do?”

“How about a Ferris Wheel?” Fay Dunbar said.

“Awesome”, Hermione replied. “Anyone else?”

“How about we build a working model of the Hogwarts Express, and set up a train display, like the do in some museums?” said Neville Longbottom.

Hermione’s eyes lit up. She loved trains. “Oh yea! That’s awesome. I love that.”

Harley looked at them and said, “Why don’t we do both? Some of you will tackle the Ferris Wheel and the rest of you will work on the train-set.”

There was applause, which surprised the two girls, but they set their projects aside and helped the rest of the students get to work on their chosen projects. They had no idea that Minerva McGonagall was watching from the back of the room, in her Animagus form, and wondering just where she had gone wrong.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

An hour and a half later, Minerva watched in sad fascination as the newly created miniature train moved around the room, on an undulating track, passed a fully working Ferris Wheel. The students had nicked together some of the Palladium coins, with a couple of Galleons, some bronze Knuts, and some silver Sickles to make the train itself, and then some miscellaneous metal pieces to create the frame for the Ferris Wheel and the tracks for the train. Hermione then showed the class what she was working on – the runes control set for weather effects and showed them where she was having a problem. Harley talked about trying to embed sound into the display, using music recorded in crystals, and the frustration she was having translating muggle music into magical effects and what she thought was going wrong.

The bell rang and everyone moved to gather his or her personal belongings. “This display is too good to have it be gotten rid of. Why don’t we ask one of the teachers to move it to the Great Hall so everyone can see it?” Hermione asked. They all agreed that was a great idea. “I’ll go and find Professor Flitwick and see if he’ll do it for us.” Everyone else left as Hermione and Harley packed up their work, froze the display, and cast several shields around it so no one could touch it. “That should do it” Hermione said. “We’ll be back in a few, anyway.” Minerva resumed her form and looked at the display and the level of detail that had been added to it. She shook her head in disbelief that first-year students could create something so amazing. She’d been teaching them only since September and already, they were doing full inanimate to animate transfiguration and animation. The realization struck her that in reality, she hadn’t taught the students very much at all. Hermione and Harley had taught the students how to do the work.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear Filius Flitwick approach. She could feel his magical aura though and turned to greet him. “Ah, Filius. Come to help move this?” Filius eyed her. He had heard chapter and verse about how she had stormed out, leaving two first-year students to teach a bunch of other first-year students. He wasn’t impressed with that kind of behavior and would be having words with the Board of Governors about it. However, in the moment, he looked at the display and gasped. “Oh my. That is amazing. And your first-year students did this Minerva?”

She beamed. She genuinely thought he was praising her. “Isn’t it amazing?”

“Truly, it is. I’m sure that this will help them with the OWL’s which many of them will take next year.”

Minerva looked down at him in shock. “What do you mean, next year?”

“Oh come now, Minnie. You’re smarter than that. This crop of first-year students is the most accomplished we’ve ever had. Most all of them will be able to sit the OWL’s at the end of next year, maybe the year after for some of them, and smash them. You know they’re 70/30, practical to theory, and they’ve got the practical down pat. A year’s study for the theory and Bob’s your uncle.” Minerva looked at him, not with disdain, but a look that spoke more of not wanting to believe him combined with the anger at the likelihood that he might be right. Filius read her expression for what it was and laughed at her, and it wasn’t a pleasant laugh: “You started this, Minnie. I have exactly zero sympathy for you. You absconded with Harry Potter the night James and Lily were killed and you gave him to the one person none of his enemies here could reach. Then you bitch and moan when he becomes she and she turns out to be more powerful than you will ever be. It’s your bed… now lie in it or quit and leave.”

“I think you overstep your bounds, Filius. I am the Deputy Headmistress and you can’t speak to me that way.”

“You think I’m impressed? Who am I to you?”

“You’re my colleague and one of my senior teachers. You work for me.”

“Maybe, and maybe not for very much longer. But who am I?”

Minerva looked at him, not completely sure what he meant. “You don’t know, do you?” he pressed. “No, and I’m not sure I like your tone.”

“Don’t care. For your information, Minerva, I am first cousin to Lord Ragnok the Fifth. His father’s brother is my father. That is why I am here at all, because I was given special dispensation to teach here, when Albus asked my father, Marlor the Great.”

Minerva looked at him in shock. She hadn’t known. And she was beyond furious at Albus for keeping the information from her. One word from Filius and she could be sanctioned by the Horde… and she’d rather burn in Hell than be sanctioned. "… I didn’t know. Albus never said anything.”

“Because he was asked not to say anything. There was very little to be gained by having the students, or anyone else for that matter, learn about my family and heritage.”

Minerva nodded, dumbly. His words made perfect sense, but it was maddening to a level she couldn’t describe that she hadn’t been told. She wondered about all the times when she had probably made herself look like a total fool in front of him. She also realized that he had a chit he could play for which she had no counter. Further, she realized that she was a big fish in a very small pond and that her reach went no further than the doors of the school, if they even went that far. Like Albus, she was hemmed in on all sides and she really didn’t like it. “I suppose I’ve already taken up too much of your time, Filius” Minerva said quietly.

He looked at her and stuck the knife in just a bit deeper. “No, you haven’t, but you’ve certainly wasted yours. You need to get your head out of your ass and either take your job as a teacher seriously, and start challenging your students, or resign. I’m already teaching the first-year students the third and forth year materials, because they’re bored. All of the others have agreed to do the same thing, including Ms. Tonks and Mr. Andrews. Even Albus has stepped up and is teaching the sixth and seventh-year students materials that are well into the Mastery area, since they seem completely ready and able to handle it.” With that, Filius waved a hand and the train set, the Ferris wheel, and the board they were on seemed to shimmer for a moment, before they disappeared. “All set. The display is in the Great Hall now”. With that done, he gave her a last look and then wandered off.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Late afternoon, Wednesday, 22 April 1992 – House of Brunt, House-at-the-end-of-the-Lane, overlooking Thoresby Lake, Thoresby, UK **

Four men had gathered to talk about the reply to the Declaration of War by House Brunt and House Higgs. It wasn’t going well. Their guest was not telling them what they wanted to hear. “So you’re saying, Lord Parkinson, that if we move against Ross, we’re signing our own death-warrants? Are you serious? You think that a 11 year old girl will kill all of us? Exactly what are you smoking?”

Malcom Parkinson wanted to face-palm. He realized that if the Dark Lord did come back, and he was certainly no fan of that happening as he hated the Dark Lord, he was going to have to institute an IQ test, and that the men around him this day were surely not going to make the cut. “I’m saying, Carlos, that if you move against her, that she and her allies will not just wipe you out, but that they do it in such a way that everyone else will be standing around saying, ‘what took you so long’. I’m also saying that not only is the House of Ross far more dangerous, at least right now, than the Dark Lord, but that if she makes it to adulthood, the Dark Lord will not dare challenge her.”

Terrence Higgs Senior looked at Malcom with what Parkinson had to think was barely contained rage. “The little BITCH castrated my son! She laughed at him, cut off his clothes, and then cut off his manhood!”

“Calm down, Terrence.” Carlos Blunt said. “Malcom isn’t responsible for that.”

“I know what she did, Terrence. I also know that your son used the Cruciatus on Malfoy’s son. My daughter saw it happen. I personally think that your son got off easy. He could be facing a lifetime in Azkaban. I think that your son did something amazingly stupid, surrounded by people who have no reason to love your son, but who have many reasons to love Malfoy’s son, and didn’t think through the situation. If Albus was even half a man, your son would be screaming in torment in Azkaban.

Terrence looked like he was ready to murder Malcom.

“Calm down, Terrence.” Alexander Nott said, “Malcom is not to blame for what happened. Hurting him will not get you anywhere.”

Malcom looked at Nott with appreciation, even though he hated and detested the man. “Ross was restrained. I saw what was left of Yaxley, after Matriarch Ross got through with him. He was in four parts, his guts all over the ground, and his legs no longer supporting the rest of him. The Lady Ross could have done that too, but she has a thing against killing right now. That will probably not last. Don’t be the one who makes her no longer care about letting her opponents live.”

“She laughed at our Declaration."

“Yes, she did. I would have too. It was stupid. Tipping your hand like that will make everyone look at you first if something happens to Lady Ross. Worse, you practically invited her to goad you into acting first, so that she has an excuse to kill you. And she will.”

“I still say that she’s being overblown. She can’t possibly be that powerful.” Nott said.

Malcom Shrugged. “You’re welcome to challenge her. Just make sure your family plot is picked out, because she’s going to send you home in a body-bag.” “She’s an ELEVEN YEAR OLD GIRL!”

“Yea, and you’re Merlin. Right. Her powers have been documented. Even Albus doesn’t fuck with her, just in case she’s everything that has been said about her.”

“He’s an old man. His time has passed.” Higgs said, mulishly.

“Yea… right. I don’t see you challenging him.”

Higgs looked at Malcom angrily. He knew Malcom was right, but it rubbed him wrong to hear it out loud. “Look, I’m trying to save your lives. Don’t be stupid. These two girls could walk in here and kill all of us and there’s not a fucking thing we could do about it.” In the next moment, Higgs and Brunt looked at each other and something meaningful passed between them, but Malcom was uncertain to what it was. They’d either decided to push forward anyway, despite his warning, or they had decided, at least for the moment, to back off. He wasn’t sure which it was and he found that he really didn’t care. “Look, I’ve had my say. I really appreciate your hospitality, Carlos. You’ve been very gracious and I’m grateful. I’m going to take my leave now and you three can talk it out. I urge you most strongly not to antagonize the Lady Ross. She will kill you.” With that, Malcom picked up his cloak and made his way out of the house.

Carlos watched him leave, before turning back and looking at Terrence Higgs. “What do you think?”

“I couldn’t scan him, which is something I expected, but as far as I can tell, he was telling the truth as he sees it. He feels that we will be throwing away our lives if we attack Lady Ross.”

“What about our sons!”

“They did something incredibly fucking stupid without asking us. In front of witnesses.” Higgs shot back. “If we don’t do something, we look foolish and weak!”

“That ship has already sailed. And besides, you should have thought about that before you issued your declaration, Carlos! At least you have a son who’s alive and not in Azkaban.” Higgs didn’t mention that his son was god-damned lucky that he had already gone through his second magical maturation, because without testes, he’d never have been able to do that. He wasn’t sure that the same was true for Carlos’ son. “What are we going to do? I don’t have an heir, you don’t have an heir. Our sons were going to continue our houses. This bitch has robbed us of our name!” Carlos snarled.

“No. She didn’t. She just showed us the cost of acting without thinking. Your son and my son fucked up. I’ll replace my son, if I have to. The little asshole never did listen to me anyway. Lots of magical boys in the hedge academies who would jump at the chance to improve their standings.”

Alexander Nott looked at them both and said, “There are other ways of taking down those two chits, without going at them from the front door.” “If you’re taking about poison or assassination, Alexander, I’ve already thought about it. The problem is that if you pay someone enough to take the insane chances that you would need to take to get at those two, someone’s going to talk and eventually, word will get out that a hit has been ordered. They’d come right to us and we’d never survive the interrogation.”

“I get that” Alexander replied. “No, I was thinking about finding someone to try to seduce either girl and divided them, before killing them.”

“Thought about that too. Unfortunately, they’ve bonded, and there’s no way to seduce them. They’d kill the person trying and then they’d come looking for us. We’d survive a day, maybe two before we ended up dead.”

“There’s got to be a way to get at them.” “We’re sure there is, but for the life of us, we can’t figure it out. While they’re at Hogwarts, they’re beyond reach and we have no idea where Lady Ross lives during the summer. We suspect that she’s done the smart thing and made it a secret with the Fidelius charm. That’s what I’d do, if I had enemies.”

“What about the other chit? Lady Dagworth?” Alexander asked. “We thought about her too, and then started banging our heads against a wall. Her parents are Muggles and have, apparently, gone to great lengths to hide the location of their home. We have squib contacts who spent time looking for us and they threw up their hands in frustration.”

“Someone’s got to know!”

“Yes, someone does. Minerva McGonagall. Good fucking luck getting her to talk. She’d transfigure you into a mouse and personally tear you apart, with her Animagus form and there’s not a blessed thing you could do about it. She’s the best transfiguration Mistress in the all of Europe. And if you did, somehow, manage to take her down, you’d probably piss off Albus Dumbledore and I want him after me like I want to be sanctioned by the Horde. There’s nowhere he can’t go, with that god-damned, bloody Phoenix of his, so he could show up in the middle of your living-room, wards be damned, and what was left of you when he was finished wouldn’t fill a memory vial.”

“What about finding someone, maybe who works for the Horde, who could get us the information?”

“We thought about that too, Alexander. Unfortunately, the Lady Ross is the number one client of the Horde. Anything even vaguely related to her would be locked down, magically, in such a way that anyone who even tried to violate his or her oath to the Horde, to give you the information, would die. Then the Horde would come looking for the person who was asking for the information and we’re right back to where we started, being sanctioned by the Horde, maybe for a lifetime, and not a single one of us needs that.”

“What about killing Ted Tonks? Or his daughter? To send a message?” Alexander interjected.

“What message would that be, exactly? That we’re fucking stupid and we’re trying to get them to kill us painfully? Kill Ted Tonks and all you do is assure yourself that no magical solicitor would ever represent you, if you need one. No, I think that if we have any chance at all, it’s going to have to be in the long game. We’re going to have to get someone into their inner circle, who’s oath-bound and loyal to us, and have him or her make the kill. That’s the only thing I can think of.”

“Try to insinuate someone into their circle by their 5th year. That gives us four years to try to find the right child, bind his or her loyalty to us, and then get him or her into Hogwarts, so that the child can worm his or her way into the chit’s circle; close enough that he or she can make the kill for us.” Carlos responded with not quite a smile but an expression of satisfaction.

“We’re agreed, then?”

“Agreed. We play the long game and disclaim any responsibility when the two chits are killed.”

****

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**Saturday afternoon, May 2, 1992 – Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts**

Quidditch fever had come to Hogwarts and the students were going at it full-tilt. Thanks to a raft-full of new brooms for the school, courtesy of Nimbus Corp., the students were racing, dodging, and generally having a crazy good time. Harley, Hermione, Draco, Pansy, and some of the prefects were loosely directing things, but mostly letting the kids play. Rolanda Hooch was overseeing everything, but generally not interfering, since the students seemed to have everything well in hand. Of course, Harley, Hermione, Draco, Pansy, and a select few others were riding Nimbus 2001’s, courtesy of Harley and Lord Malfoy. The brooms were so responsive and so fast that they were still getting used to them. Even Draco seemed awed by the broom and he was easily the best Quidditch player in the school. Harley was acknowledged as the best, craziest, and fastest flyer in the school, but that didn’t equate to best Quidditch-player.

After doing a number of laps around the school, Draco quietly pulled the girls aside, up by one of the goal-posts. They were 20 meters off the ground, high enough up that no one could hear them. Draco had become very soft-spoken since entering Hogwarts. He was no longer the brash young man whom his father had known. He was studious, gentle, kind, and now fiercely protective of those whom he called ‘friend’. That included the two Gryffindor girls who had sought vengeance for the attack on him and had gotten him to Madame Pomfrey so quickly. “I… I didn’t get a chance to say thank you, for what you two did.”

Harley smiled, as did Hermione. “Yes, you did, Draco. The hug that you gave each of us when Poppy set you free from the Infirmary said it all. And we want you to know that we’re never going to allow anyone to do that to you again. You’re our friend now and no one gets to touch you.” Hermione looked at Draco and his beautiful gray eyes. “Ditto. You’ve been wonderful to us, Draco, and that’s enough.” Draco sat between them, hovering on his broom as naturally as you would breathe, and he could still feel their radiant power. It was like being in the hot sun with no wind. He knew that they didn’t notice it and would have been embarrassed about it, if he pointed it out, but it was still palpable. Not even Dumbledore had such a presence. Thinking of Dumbledore brought another thought to mind; one that Draco had to tell them.

“There was a meeting on April 22nd that my father needs to tell you about. He’d like to talk to both of you, directly, via the floo this evening. Can you come to Slytherin like... 8 tonight?”

Hermione looked at Harley for a moment and then nodded. “We can do that. Do you know what it’s about?” “Higgs and Brunt met with someone. That someone owed my father a favor. He called the favor to get a complete memory of the meeting. He said that you’re going to want to see it.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow in a very Hermione-like movement and then Harley nodded. “Tell him thank you and yes, please. We’d love to see it. Tell him also that we have a trick we’d like to show him, next time he’s here and financially, it’s worth his while.”

Draco’s eyes perked up at that. The last time the girls had something worthwhile to show him, Draco watched as the girls taught his father how to make Diamonds. They had taught him how to do it as well, but he was still working on it. At the time, they had made it look easy, and indeed, the theory was easy, but it took a great deal of power to pull off, and he just didn’t have the kind of power that they tossed around so casually. “I’ll tell him, after we finish here. Anything else?” Hermione blushed. “Yes. Tell him… thank you for the gift certificate to… that store. He’ll know the one. Tell him that I love it and thank you thank you thank you.”

Draco was at a loss to know what she was talking about, but it was clear that whatever it was, it made her blush furiously, so it had to be girl-stuff. Draco squicked at the thought of it, and he was increasingly sure that girls weren’t his thing. Would his father be mad at him? Would he hate him for not liking girls? The thought made him really sad, and for a moment, Harley saw something in his expression – something that she was sure was making him sad. She set a mental reminder to talk to Hermione about it at some point, or even Madame Pomfrey.

“I’ll tell him, Hermione. I’m sure he’ll be pleased that you’re so happy. And I’ll also tell him that you’ve got something else to show him. That last trick you showed him made him so happy that he’s been doing nothing else, practically.”

Hermione looked askew at Harley and then said, “Tell him to be careful. Diamonds are actually really, really cheap, but DeBeers Corp. – a muggle company – has been artificially inflating the price for years. There are enough 1 karat diamonds on Earth to give every single woman two of them. If your father makes too many, the price could drop significantly, and that would ruin everything. Tell your father that he should focus on making a few really big ones – blues, yellows – those will be much costlier than just ordinary diamonds.” Draco thought that was a lot to remember, so he conjured a piece of paper and a quill, just like the girls had shown him how to do and started making notes. When he was finished, he banished the quill and rolled up the piece of paper. Hermione and Harley watched, pleased and impressed with what he had done.

“Awesome, Draco! We knew you could do it. All you had to do is want it, and it happened, right?” Draco nodded. He was feeling incredibly good about what he had just done. He had wanted a thing; focused on the thing, and it had happened. It was exactly what the two girls had been trying to teach him and he did it. He didn’t even recognize that he had done it wandlessly and soundlessly. They’d tell him that later, once he got used to doing it.

“Good” Harley said, “Now let’s go fly. I want to race the two of you!” Hermione shook her head. She knew that neither she nor Draco were going to be able to out-fly Harley. No one could, but Harley deserved to have someone to practice against, and they were ‘volunteered’.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Sunday morning, May 3, 1992 – First-year common room, Gryffindor House**

The one beautiful thing about the first-year common room for Gryffindor House was that each of the chairs was a two-person chair and they were arranged in a semi-circle, so that each faced the fireplace. Hermione and Harley were asleep, under a blanket, after having finished breakfast, which was always served on Sunday mornings, in the dorms. It was a continental breakfast, but a really nice one, with fresh fruit, yogurt, pastries, slices of ham, sausage rolls, English breakfast tea, and most important thing, coffee! After the two had had their fill, they curled up and went back to sleep. No one was going to bother them, not for love nor money. No one was that stupid. **_Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titulate_** Unfortunately, the charm that Isabelle had cast to suppress the glow from their bond finally wore off as they slept. They would wake to the commotion of more than a dozen girls, standing around and talking in muted voices about what they were seeing – and word of it would be out before either could do anything about it.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Monday morning, May 4, 1992 – The Great Hall of Hogwarts**

The Great Hall was unusually crowded for a Monday morning Hermione thought as they walked in, hand-in-hand, and there were an unusual number of eyes watching them.  "What’s going on?” Hermione whispered to Harley.

“No idea.” By instinct, both girls had their wands out, which served as a warning to anyone thinking about doing something stupid. Fortunately, this morning didn’t bring out anyone who had a death-wish, and both girls were able to sit down, at their customary positions, with their backs to the wall and protected on each side.

It took no more than a moment for Fay Dunbar, one of their roommates, to point out the obvious, “You two are glowing. Is that bad?”

Hermione looked at Harley in alarm. 

Harley looked sick to her stomach and then said, “Fuck. And I don’t know the charm that my mother used.”

"I thought she renewed it after Yule break. Maybe she forgot?”

“Yea. Hermione… I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve the mountain of shit we’re about to get.”

“I love you, Harley. You know that. I’m in it for life. We were expecting the shit at some point…”

“I know, love. And I love you. I always will. I’m in it forever, if you’ll have me.”

“Forever, love. In this life and beyond.” Magical words, spoken by magical people, who promise themselves to each other, with true intent and love, constitute a pledge of marriage. Neither girl recognized that with every word, their glow increased. They didn’t hear the fall-off in conversation in the Hall. They didn’t hear anything. It was just them. When they kissed, the bond blossomed such that there were streamers of color all around them. The color was of the fey, but it was there to see, even if you had only a little bit of magic to give. For those who had mage-sight, it was a cascading torrent of light that threatened to overwhelm the senses. Rita Skeeter was practically ‘bugging out’ with joy. Watching from the rafters in her Animagus form, she had never gotten to witness such a magical marriage before and this one was one for the ages. It also constituted the promise of the best bonus she might ever get as a writer for the _Daily Prophet._ She wished that she could have heard the actual words that had been spoken, but her mage-sight told her that whatever had been said, had been said as a true vow and promise of love.

The applause after the fact was near-deafening. The power-couple of Hogwarts stood for a moment and took in the support. Harley waved a hand and the words, “Thank you” appeared in the hall, over the head table. It wasn’t lost on the Headmaster that the words burned with Gubraithian Fire – the Everlasting fire. It took a witch or wizard who was at least Sorcerer-level to create it, but to do it wandlessly and so casually took someone who was an experienced, Mage. Bowing first, they then waved to everyone before sitting back down. It was clear that those at the head-table didn’t know what to make of what they had just witnessed. Most of the teachers clapped, with the notable exception of the Headmaster, Sybil Patricia Trelawney, who was newly dead from an alcoholic overdose, and Charity Burbage, the Muggle studies professor whom Harley had threatened to kill if she said so much as another unkind word to Hermione.

Neither girl cared that the Headmaster didn’t clap for them. He wasn’t their friend and never would be, so they wrote off his lack of support as being par for the course. As for Charity Burbage, her lack of support was no great loss. Hermione had thought to curse her with some nasty, vindictive curse, but she realized that Burbage just wasn’t worth the effort. As for Sybil Trelawney – neither girl knew her and neither cared. Isabelle wasn’t a believer in prophecies and so she had never bothered teaching Harley about them. At the end of the breakfast, as everyone was standing, packing bags, etc. in order to get ready for their first classes, Hermione waved her hand casually and the ever-burning words disappeared as easily as they had been created. The kids around her stared at her, at her casual display of such power.

"What?” she said to them, not understanding the looks they were giving her.

Parvati Patil said, softly, but with some exasperation, “Hermione, you and Harley wield magic so casually that you forget that we’re all first-year students and can’t do even a twentieth of what you do, and that’s a wand, much less without one.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I just forget. For me, it’s all just magic. I don’t really think about it too much.”

“We get that, Hermione, but that’s exactly the point. You’re a giant and the rest of us are ants.”

“That’s not true and you know it, Parvati! You can do wandless magic too. I’ve seen you do it. I think that the difference is that you don’t believe in yourself yet. I’m lucky. I know that I am loved beyond all reason, and that the girl who loves me, believes in me. She showed me that it’s all… just magic. You believe in something strongly enough and it happens, because you tell your magic to make it happen.”

Hermione said, “Let me show you.” She shouted down the table, “Hey Neville. Come here a sec.” Neville looked down the long table and, after slinging his backpack up and onto his shoulder, walked down the length of the table to where Hermione stood. “Neville, Parvati is having a hard time believing in herself, so she’s not sure if she can command her magic the way Harley and I do. I want to show her that she can do it too. Do me a favor.”

“What? Anything for you.” He said with a smile.

“Turn Dumbledore’s robes bright pink.”

Neville laughed, slightly maliciously. “Sure.” And he did. He looked at the Headmaster for a moment and then the man’s robes turned bright pink, with girly hearts all over them.

Parvati clutched his arm and burst out laughing. “That’s awesome!”

“Anything else?” Neville asked.

“No, that’ll do. Appreciate it though.”

“No problem.” And with that, Neville walked out of the Hall, whistling a happy song. Others saw the Headmaster’s new robes and burst out laughing as well. Eventually, the Headmaster cottoned onto the fact that he was the object of the laughter and looked down at his ‘new’ robes. Furiously, he tried to change the color, but it didn’t budge. The more he tried, the more the laughter rose, until he could take it no more and went out of the Hall, swearing. Rita, who had seen the whole thing, was rolling around, clutching her bug sides, laughing. She now had two stories to tell, and both were going to get noticed. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Transfiguration class, May 4, 1992, Hogwarts East wing, 3rd floor. **

Everyone was in and accounted for, which was unusual. Minerva looked around. Everyone was quiet, ready to participate, and looking at her as if something was about to happen. “I have been told, by concerned parties, that I’ve not been doing my job, and that many, if not all of you, are going to be ready to take the OWL’s by end of your third, or perhaps forth year. Because of that, I now expect you to be ready to do that by next year. Every single one of you, and I have been watching, has shown the capacity to earn an Outstanding, possibly with Distinction, on your OWL Transfiguration exam – at least as far as the practicum is concerned. I have also seen that you’ve already mastered a transfiguration that flies directly in the face of Gamp’s Third Law. We have decided not to discuss that outside of this school. That will be considered a school secret, until we can land it on the Examiners all at once. We, the administration and I, have decided that we are going to push for excellence such that the examiners have never seen before. I am told, reliably, that you are already doing third-year work in Potions and Charms. To that, we are going to add Transfiguration, and just as soon as we can get a certified DADA teacher in here, we will add DADA. You will find that DADA is simply an extension of the three other courses, with bits of strategy, instinct, and aggressiveness tossed in. 

Now, several classes ago, you all built a working miniature train set. And a Ferris Wheel. Hermione, here, was complaining about not being able to add weather-conditions to the board, based on her outside-of-class work and Harley here, was complaining about not being able to add sound. Unfortunately, those are Mastery-level skills and I do not have the time to deal with them. However, they will be addressed. I am going to recruit a new teacher this coming Fall, in Runes-crafting. It will be a wholly new area of study for the school. You will learn how to build wards, create area-effects, create ward-based illusions, and learn blood-magic.

On a completely separate note, I have some news, and it’s not happy news. Sybil Trelawney was just found dead in her tower. I learned this on the way here.”

None of the students knew her, but there were looks of shock all around. “We’ve had two deaths this year, unfortunately. One was caused by magic that I cannot and will not discuss here and the other one was caused by Sherry. Alcohol is both wonderful and terrible. Like magic, there can be too much of it, and it was so in this case. Sybil drank herself to death. No one knows why, but I am sure that we will learn something of what caused her untimely death as we search her private rooms.”

A very young girl raised her hand in the back of the room and waited to be called upon. Eventually, Minerva saw her and bade her speak. “Professor? I heard that a ghost, Binns, was excised from the school this last summer. Is that true?”

“Melody? That’s your name, right?” The girl nodded. “Well, Melody, that’s in fact true. Professor Binns died years ago, but he failed to depart. He insisted on remaining and teaching History of Magic. That grew to be intolerable, when it was discovered that during his living days, he had been an intolerable racist against the Goblins and other groups. It was determined that he had to go, so I banished him to the next life. We are all, I think, better off with his ghost departed from these halls.” Melody raised her hand again and Minerva called on her once more. “Professor, that makes three, doesn’t it? And we lost Professor Snape, so that’s four. Is he going to be replaced?”

Minerva looked at her and realized that she was right in all respects. “I’m not as young as I once was, Melody. You’re right of course. And yes, we will be replacing Professor Snape. Binns has already been replaced and David is doing a great job with his students.” “Can we keep Ms. Tonks? She’s wonderful!”

Minerva smiled. “I think Ms. Tonks is wonderful as well. Unfortunately, she’s going to be accepted to the Auror Academy this fall, so will be leaving us. However, we will be drafting one of the students whom the Headmaster has picked out, to take over Ms. Tonks’ position. We feel that such a position is entirely worthwhile and is creating a great deal more student engagement in Potions than used to exist.” She looked around. “Any other questions? None. Good. We’ve talked too long already.”

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Two days later, May 6, 1992 - Azkaban Island **

Sirius black looked up at the little birdie that landed between the bars of his cell. There was sunshine pouring in, which was exceedingly unusual for the North Sea, and there was a light breeze. The bird flew down to where he lay as Padfoot and pecked him on the head. That made him transform back into the man that he sometimes was. Grabbing the bird, though gently, Sirius saw a note tied to the bird’s leg. He read it and whooped with happiness. It said, **Time to go. Say the magic words.**

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!”

Instantly, the band fell off the bird’s leg and the bird disintegrated magically. What was left was the band. Sirius had seen enough sneaky things to suspect what was going on. He lifted the ring and read the inscription on it. “One more time”

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!” The band became a box, which Sirius opened. It was a wand, but not like anything he had ever seen before. It was long and sleek and black and he felt the power of it immediately. He waved it and his clothes repaired themselves. All of the lice disappeared. So did the fleas. The box which had held the wand also contained a note. He extracted it and read:

**“Dear Padfoot:**

**I’m right off the coast in a small boat with the American flag on it, even as you read this. I can’t help you get out of there, but you need to. I can help you get away once you’re free of the island, but I can’t come in and interfere. You’ve got to work quickly. I have miniaturized several US military grenades – be careful with these fuckers! They have a kill radius of 9 feet, so toss it into a group and get the fuck away if you have to use them. They’re REALLY loud when they go off. Pull the pin, drop the pin, throw the grenade. Hide. Easy-peezey. Also, I’ve stashed some food in the box. Eat now, then get the fuck out of there. Look northwest, towards the horizon. That’s where you’ll find me. **

**Hurry!**

**Isabelle Ross**

Sirius unshrank the items in the box, separating the food from the Grenades. The food looked awesome. There was fresh bread, brie, two Navel oranges, and two bottles of Root Beer. Sirius thought he had died and gone to Heaven. 

He ate slowly, but not too slowly, since he was now a man on a mission. Just having the fleas and lice gone made him feel new again. He was even looking forward to taking a swim in the ocean (as Padfoot). He’d be able to swim away from the island by a mile or so before Apparating to Isabelle’s boat. 

Once he was done eating, he looked at the wall facing the ocean. Rather than facing having to fight guards and Dementors, he decided that the path of least resistance was the best and transfigured an 18” wide hole in the wall. It was just wide enough for Padfoot. Before committing himself though, he stuck his head out and looked around. He was some 60’ off the ground.  _ Well, that sucks,  _ he thought. 

He looked down and saw big rocks all along the shoreline.  _ Stairs,  _ he thought. A wave or two of his wand and rough-hewn stairs affixed themselves to the side of the building. Not wanting to take any more time, Sirius gathered everything together that he didn’t want to leave behind, shifted into Padfoot, and ran down the stairs as quickly as possible. When he reached the shore, he ran along it, to the northern tip of the island. It felt so good to be out and free that he almost didn’t remember to look for the boat. He saw it, bobbing in the distance. As Padfoot, he dove into the water and started to doggy-paddle towards the boat. The water was warm-ish; certainly well above freezing, and he knew he could keep it up for a while. 

When he was a half-mile out, he closed his eyes, shifted into Sirius, and then apparated to the boat. He landed with a wet  _ thump _ on the foredeck of the boat, almost on top of the anchor-chain. His clothes were wet and he was shivering, but he felt more alive than he had in years. 

Looking up, he saw a very pretty woman in a one-piece bathing suit, maybe 5’3” or 5’4”, staring at him. “Sirius Black?”

“Isabelle?”

“What’s the magic phrase?”

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!”

Isabelle grinned. “Good. Now, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

She pointed her wand at the rigging and the sails dropped magically into place, lashing themselves to the mizzen-masts. The winds caught the sails and they were moving. “Follow me” Isabelle called back, as she worked her way to the center-back of the boat and the wheel. He watched as she walked. She had a tight, gorgeous ass, which was beautifully framed by the one-piece bathing suit that she was wearing. 

She jumped up on a platform and, after taking the wheel in hand, brought the boat around, so that they were heading towards the big island in front of them. 

“There are nutrient potions in the bin, behind you, as well as more food. Take two of the nutrient potions first and then you can have some more food.”

Sirius did as he was told, and then sat and started eating. He ate slowly, enjoying every bit of the experience. Finally, Isabelle said, “It’s been quite an adventure, working out how to get you out of there. That transfiguration and animation bit was a lot more work than you might realize. And finding a wand that was going to work for you? Don’t get me started on that. I couldn’t go to anyone in the UK for it, so I had to rely on a wand-maker in the Colonies and that required a fair bit of cash. Fortunately, the Ross wealth is considerable and your god-daughter gave me carte-blanche to spend whatever was necessary to make it happen.”

“What’s she like? Sirius said, softly.

“Sirius, you’re going to love her. Harley is amazing. She’s loving, protective, gentle, funny, silly, and she had the most amazing fiancée. She hates Albus. She’s made friends with Draco Malfoy, whom, I am told, is the son of one of your enemies. She’s abiding by the phrase, ‘keep your friends close, and your enemies closer’. Of course, the Malfoys think that Harley is the best thing since sliced bread.”

Sirius looked at Isabelle like she had three heads. “That’s a story that I’ve got to hear” he said. Isabelle told him. Then she told him about Harley’s first magical maturation, and Hermione’s. She told him about Hermione’s parents, Jake and Miranda and about their concerns. They talked about Isabelle’s relationship with Ragnok and how that came to be. Sirius looked at her in astonishment when she told him that she was fluent in the Goblin language. He laughed when he learned her Goblin name when she was young, “ball breaker”. Two hours later, they were on the other side of the big island of Torshavn and sailing into the harbor at Vassbotn. As they passed into the harbor proper, on the way to the temporary birth that she had arranged, Isabelle was surprised to see several massive US warships at the pier, with Marines, fore and aft, carrying M16’s. She knew from her limited research that armed Marines meant heavy weapons onboard the ships. She wondered just what the US military was doing in this part of the world, but she knew not to get too close, either. The ships were carrying the standard of the US Second Fleet, though Isabelle didn’t know it. 

Once the boat was docked and tied-in properly, Isabelle looked at Sirius, who was now washed, shaved, dressed, and looking nothing like the man who had arrived on her boat two and a half hours earlier, and said, “Ready to go? We’ve got to get out of town before the authorities can raise the alarm.”

Sirius nodded and indicated that she should lead the way. Isabelle walked down the gangplank, and along the floating pier, until she got to land-proper. “Can you still Apparate?” she asked. He nodded. “Good. Take my hand and let me guide” she said, and as soon as they found a quiet spot, they ducked into an alley and disappeared.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**7am - Breakfast, the Great Hall, Hogwarts, Thursday, May 28, 1992**

The first-year students were all struggling to keep their eyes open as they wandered into breakfast. They were four weeks away from end-of-year and three weeks away from their final exams. The teachers were pushing them harder than they had ever been pushed before, anywhere, and some of the kids were starting to fall asleep as early as lunch. Not that it was any better for the rest of the students, but the first-years were feeling it particularly hard. Minor tensions had flared within Gryffindor House, as some of the older kids were blaming the younger kids, Harley and Hermione in particular, for causing the sudden and massive academic push. The Weasley Twins had tried to take their frustrations out on Hermione, only to find themselves stripped naked and suspended, upside-down, from the ceiling in their common room, with big, obvious butt-plugs sticking from their rear-ends that had red, fluffy tails attached to them that matched their hair. They got the message that Hermione was off-limits. Period.

The Ravenclaw students, one might have thought, would be having the time of their lives, studying and learning new and interesting material, but even they had a breaking-point. Who knew that when Ravenclaw students are pushed to snapping, they turn violent? “I want those two dead” became the new Ravenclaw mantra and the two who were the focus of the ire was obvious. Unfortunately for Ravenclaw students, personal cowardice turned out to be the flip side of academic inquiry, much to Filius Flitwick’s embarrassment.

Hufflepuff students banded together with their Gryffindor colleagues, to form study groups, and they knuckled down and got the work done… and then went off and had a surprising amount of rather depraved and rambunctious sex. They were probably the healthiest and happiest house in the school. The Slytherins tried to find people in their own house to blame, but to no avail, since each person in the House seemed to have a plausible excuse as to why he or she wasn’t responsible for the current onslaught of work and why castigating that person was a bad idea. Only Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson seemed content. That was because they were studying, furiously, along with Harley and Hermione, Neville Longbottom, and the girls from Hermione’s dorm room. When Hermione and Harley reached “their” table, a house-elf popped out of nowhere. Harley palmed her wand, just in case, and then said, “G’morning. Who are you?”

The elf looked at Harley and then said, “I is Dobby, Mistress. Master Malfoy sent me to you. He said that you is a fine mistress and that Dobby was free to come and serve Mistress. Only… Dobby is wanting paying, mistress.” “How much, Dobby?” Hermione asked.

“One Galleon a month, and one day off per month, Mistress.”

Harley stared hard at the elf. “Four Galleons a month and Four days off.”

Dobby shook his head. “NO NO NO! Dobby is not greedy, Mistress! Dobby is not wanting that much pay!”

“Three Galleons a month and four days off. Final offer.”

Dobby the elf thought about this. Master Malfoy hadn’t said how powerful Mistress Ross was. Dobby thought he might be lucky to survive this negotiation. “Three Galleons a month and three days off.”

Hermione looked at Harley and made a motion. “Three Galleons a month and three and a half days off.”

“Fine. Dobby accepts three Galleons a month and three days off.”

“How do we do this then? I’ve never bonded an elf before.”

“We share magics, mistress, and say the words.”

“I, Harley Janel Ross, Lady of the House of Ross, take you, Dobby, into my household, as my friend and my elf-companion, for the price of Three Galleons a month and three days off per month.” “I, Dobby the Elf, accept Mistress’ offer, and agree to be her elf forever.”

“Take this then, Dobby, and make our bond” Harley extended her hand, which was glowing with a massive ball of magic. Dobby pressed the ball of magic to his chest and started shaking all over. Dobby did the same but extended a very different-colored ball of magic to Harley, who took Hermione’s hand in her own and then joined all three of their hands. Dobby started to shake again, but less so. When it was done, the students up and down the table were surprised. Dobby was now several inches taller and he seemed to be more confident.

“Dobby has new mistress!” he said jubilantly, and then threw himself around her in a hug. Harley couldn’t not hug him back, so she did. “I like your ears, Dobby.” She said, as she reached out and stroked them gently. There was applause from all over the Hall, as well as several boo’s. The ‘boo’s’ stopped abruptly as their authors were smacked up side the head. Harley had a feeling that the boo’s were mostly from a couple of disgruntled Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. Quietly, Harley said, “Dobby, your number one job is to protect Hermione. Everything else is second to that. Understand?” Dobby nodded. “Good. Now, I know that house-elves are restricted from using lethal magic. So here’s what I say: Do that you have to in order to protect Hermione and let me worry about the repercussions. Literally nothing is more important to me than Hermione’s safety. Ok?” “And one more thing, Dobby. If Hermione has to kill someone, you don’t stop to ask questions, ok? You get her and you out of the situation. We are now family. Hermione is my Lady.”

“Dobby understands. Dobby will protect the Lady Dagworth before anything else.”

“Good. Now, sit with us and let’s eat. I’m starved.

“You is treating Dobby like family?” he said, quivering.

Harley looked at him and said, “I thought I already said that, when we bonded. You’re family. You eat with us, you travel with us, you protect us. We protect you.” Dobby’s eyes were wide and Hermione could see tears developing in them. Wandlessly, she summoned a vial and as Dobby’s tears fell, she collected them. Then she reached for her Athame and bade Harley to do the same thing. She cut her palm and dripped the blood down into the vial. When Harley saw what she was doing, she followed Hermione’s lead and dripped her own blood down into the vial. When the tears and the blood combined, the mixture turned golden. Hermione smiled. She had an idea that might work, if they could create a ritual circle somewhere in the school.

“Now Dobby, please sit!” Dobby sat, though he had to create himself a booster seat that allowed him to see and be seen. He certainly didn’t go unnoticed. Having a house-elf represented power. It was like having the ability to reach out and do things, without being seen or being noticed. Children, especially eleven and twelve-year-old’s are jealous creatures and they don’t often think about what it means to be responsible another person’s life. Not a single person around Hermione or Harley recognized the fact that something important had just happened. That wasn’t true for those at the Head Table though. They knew. Minerva knew. She recognized that Harley and Hermione had just gained another kind of power. What they would do with it remained to be seen.

By the time that the whole kerfuffle with Dobby had died down, it was just about time for the post-owls to start arriving. That meant the _Daily Prophet_ and one, Rita Skeeter. The moment that the paper landed on people’s laps, the chatter grew loud. Hermione was finishing her first cup of coffee and really didn’t want to have to think about what Rita had to say, but they could hardly ignore her, either. Harley was finishing her second cup of coffee when Hedwig landed on her shoulder and dropped the paper on her lap. Harley turned to Dobby and said, “Dobby, this is Hedwig. She found us, I don’t know how, and for some reason decided that she wanted to be my owl. She loves bacon, ham, and sausage, as well as mice, voles, and bugs.”

“Dobby understands.”

“Hedwig, this is Dobby. Dobby is family. If you have a package for me, you can leave it with him, ok?”

Hedwig bobbed her head in understanding. “Good. That’s settled. Now, let’s see what Skeeter had to say.” Harley unfolded the paper and looked at the headlines. Surprisingly, Skeeter’s article wasn’t even above the fold. **“Harley Ross and Hermione Dagworth-Granger married?”**

**By Rita Skeeter**

** On Monday, May Fourth, I witnessed a life-changing happening at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Lady Harley Ross and Hermione Dagworth-Granger were seen walking into the Great Hall at Hogwarts, holding hands and glowing. As readers are aware, there are only a small number of reasons that two people would glow while holding hands. One of those reasons is a marital bond – and it is fairly typical for happily bonded couples. However, it is unheard-of for children, except in one special circumstance: Magus or Magi, which always come in _pairs._**

**That’s right, ladies and gentlemen. It appears that the Magical United Kingdom now has two more Magi, besides Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, and they’re at Hogwarts. **

**I saw, with my own eyes, that as the girls sat down, someone said something to the two of them. While what they said to each other as a result of the comment that was made to them is unknown, the kiss that they shared was definite and the glow that surrounded them was staggering. It was so bright that no one could look at it directly. **

**Dawn Englefade, the lead healer at St. Mungo’s who deals with bonds, both emotional and magical, said that it is her professional opinion that the glow that was seen in the Great Hall of Hogwarts between the two girls could only have come from a marriage bond forming. “The girls obviously promised themselves to each other. That’s the only possible explanation.”**

**Publication of this information was delayed, as we checked and double-checked our sources, interviewed experts, submitted requests for comment, and researched this area of magic. **

**On May Fifth, (05/05/1992) We attempted to contact Hogwarts for comment, but as _Daily Prophet_ readers are aware, Hogwarts has a standing “no comment” policy about students. We also attempted to contact the Horde and were told that any effort to inquire about the Lady Ross or the Lady Dagworth would be met by _sanctions._ The _Daily Prophet_ values its unique relationship with the Horde and will not risk such an outcome, so that avenue of inquiry is officially closed. **

**Several attempts were made to contact the Office of Records in London, at the Ministry for Magic, and it were similarly rebuffed. Finally, we were given this official statement just before going to press:**

**“The privacy of the First of the Sacred Twenty-Eight is of primary importance to the Magical government of the United Kingdom. Therefore, there is no comment.”**

**Several attempts were made to contact the parents of Lady Dagworth-Granger, but it was discovered that if their address was ever known, it is not known now and no one can remember who her parents are. We believe that this might be because of the use of a Fidelius charm, but we cannot be certain. **

**So, ladies and gentlemen – there you have it. The Magical UK has a female pair of Magi – the first in recorded history. We offer our congratulations on their obvious joy and hope the best for them in their life together.**

Hermione put the paper down and looked at Harley. “Well… fuck. That sucks. I’m sorry, love. I had hoped that we could keep things under wraps until the Fall, at the very least.”

Harley took her hand, “I know, ‘Mione. At least she didn’t write a hit-piece on us. That’s the last thing we needed. You-know-Who's going to be angry though.”

Hermione snorted. “So he pees in his playpen again. Not like it’s our problem. He can’t touch either one of us while he’s Headmaster and he knows that.”

Harley looked at Dobby. “Can you check our mail each morning? I get the feeling we’re going to get some nasty messages in the coming days.”

“Dobby can do, Mistress.”

“Oh… one other thing, Dobby. Do you know any other house-elves who are unhappy, who might want to work for us? Other house-elves who want a proper family?”

The house-elf thought about that and his ears soft-of flopped back and forth like paddles while he did. Finally though, he said, “Dobby thinks that there are others. He will ask. If Dobby finds others, what should he be doing?”

“Bring them to us, Dobby. We’ll make a family with as many elves as there are who want a proper family. My mother needs help, Hermione’s parents need help… so there’s lots of work to go around, ok?”

Dobby quivered with happiness at the thought of building a big family and having proper work to do. It was good to work for Mistress Ross and Mistress ‘Mione.

****

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	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pursuant to the Berne Convention Implementation Act of 1988 and the Digital Millennium Copyright Act of 1998, 17 U.S.C. §§ 512, 120 1–1 205, this work is copyrighted 2019 with all rights expressly reserved by its author unless explicitly granted. No portion may be reproduced in any fashion, or hosted on any website, without the express written and notarized permission of the author. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own rights to any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of Joanne K Rowling, © 2003, to whom I am deeply indebted. The Harry Potter series is property of Joanne K. Rowling, and Arthur A. Levine Books, Inc., a division of Scholastic Press, Inc., © 2003. I make no money from any of this. WHATEVER CREATIVE MATERIAL IS LEFT IS MINE.
> 
> CONTENT Disclaimer: This story may contain sexually graphic and explicit material and as such, it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now, as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. These stories are just that, stories, and do not promote or condone the activities described herein.

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**From Chapter IX…**

Hermione put the paper down and looked at Harley. “Well… fuck. That sucks. I’m sorry, love. I had hoped that we could keep things under wraps until the Fall, at the very least.”

Harley took her hand, “I know, ‘Mione. At least she didn’t write a hit-piece on us. That’s the last thing we needed. You-know-who’s going to be angry though.”

Hermione snorted. “So he pees in his playpen again. Not like it’s our problem. He can’t touch either one of us while he’s Headmaster and he knows that.”

Harley looked at Dobby. “Can you check our mail each morning? I get the feeling we’re going to get some nasty messages in the coming days.”

“Dobby can do, Mistress.”

“Oh… one other thing, Dobby. Do you know any other house-elves who are unhappy, who might want to work for us? Other house-elves who want a proper family?”

The house-elf thought about that and his ears soft-of flopped back and forth like paddles while he did. Finally though, he said, “Dobby thinks that there are others. He will ask. If Dobby finds others, what should he be doing?”

“Bring them to us, Dobby. We’ll make a family with as many elves as there are who want a proper family. My mother needs help, Hermione’s parents need help… so there’s lots of work to go around, ok?”

Dobby quivered with happiness at the thought of building a big family and having proper work to do. It was good to work for Mistress Ross and Mistress ‘Mione.

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**8am – Headmaster’s office, Hogwarts, Thursday, May 28, 1992**

“You betrayed me!” Albus all but roared at Minerva, as she stood, with her wand out, near the window of his office. 

“No. You didn’t need to know, and I wasn’t obligated to tell you. The girls’ powers are their own business, whether you like it or not.”

Albus didn’t have an answer for that, because it was true. He had no official reason to know what the girls were capable of doing, since he wasn’t their instructor and had no direct contact with them. He didn’t even have a right to discipline them! That was left to Minerva and, in an extreme case, the DMLE and the Wizengamot. In other circumstances, he might have been able to offer to teach them, but it was clear that they did not trust him and wanted no contact with him. 

He could feel in his bones, though, that there was something more going on. He just didn’t know what it was. Someone wasn’t being truthful with him… but he couldn’t put his finger on why he thought that was so. 

“I am disgusted with your lack of candor, Minerva. You haven’t lied to me, but you’ve failed to tell me things that I need to know as Headmaster.”

“Horseshit, Albus. You didn’t need to know… you just  _ wanted _ to know, because you can’t resist sticking you absurdly long nose into everyone’s business. Worse, you’re a like a Goblin, only with information. You hoard it and don’t share it, because you think you’re the only one wise enough to handle it.”

“The truth… 'It is a beautiful and terrible thing and should therefore be treated with great caution.”

“Again, Albus. Horseshit. The Truth is universal and is owed to each person, as God’s gift, so that we can live together.”

“We view the world so differently, Minerva.” Albus said, with tired exasperation. 

“Well, yes, that’s true, but I just can’t get my head far enough up my ass to see things from your point of view.” She snarled.

“You think so little of me?”

“Most of the time, Albus, I try not to think of you at all. But when I do, it’s with resentment of the stench that you represent. You have plotted and planned ever since I met you, and you’ve cost good people their lives.”

Albus wanted to rage at her in reply, but there was much more truth in her words than she could imagine and he didn’t want to open that can of worms by talking about any one example. “And I’ve saved many others, a great many others.”

“Aye, that’s true, but only after you stopped fucking Grindelwald and realized the truth of what he represented.”

Her words assaulted him, both with the truth in them and the regret that he still held for that relationship. “That’s quite enough! I’ll take no more of your insult and bombast.”

“Tough shit, Albus. You can’t remove me, except with a vote by the Board, and they like me a lot more than they like you.”

That also stung, because it was true. Lucius Malfoy had turned against him in the past months and had taken a fair majority of the Board with him, over to the side of more oversite and control of the school. On that side stood most of the teachers, as well as Minerva, so he was effectively cornered. 

“We’re done here this morning, Minerva. I’ve had quite enough of your attitude.”

“Well, good riddance to you too, Albie.” She said, as she backed out carefully; her wand up and ready.

Albus watched her back out, angry at the way the meeting had degenerated and at the loss of her support for the ‘greater good’. He knew things would be much, much harder to achieve without her willing cooperation. It would also be much more difficult to keep the sheep in their society pliant and docile while keeping the wolves (i.e – purebloods) from fucking everything up in their ridiculous, self-serving rapaciousness. He was also angry because there were two new, young, very impressionable Mages in the Kingdom and he had no real way of influencing them, towards his ‘greater good’. 

His frustration came from the fact that mages stood alone, at the pinnacle of magical power in their society, with abundant deference to their attitudes and beliefs. Two girls, especially girls as incredibly beautiful as Harley Ross and Hermione Granger, would be able to sway vast segments of British magical society… and it was lost to him. He couldn’t do anything to steer them towards his way of thinking.  _ Damn Minerva McGonagall to Hell _ , he seethed. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Friday, May 29, 2019 - 12 Forest Lane, Colgate, UK – just after 7am**

Miranda woke early and looked out the large window, over their private pond, and stretched. She winced as she sat up and put her legs over the side of the bed. She and Jake had had a long and wonderful romp all night, making love a number of times throughout the night, and parts of her were now tender. 

_ I wonder if last night did the trick. It would be nice to be pregnant again, _ Miranda thought to herself as she stood and walked, naked, to their private en-suite. She flipped several light-switches and then turned the water on for a hot shower. Jake had pleasured her both front and back and she needed to clean up before starting her day. Fortunately, the walk-in shower was really warm and had shower-heads from all directions. It was like a human car-wash; thorough and totally decadent. 

It wasn’t often that she showered alone. Jake was an enthusiastic partner and loved making love with her in the shower, or anywhere else for that matter. This morning though, he was sound asleep. Friday was a day off during the summer, so that they could enjoy a three-day weekend and take advantage of being together, in whatever they had to do, or wanted to do. It also meant that she spent Thursdays plugged up, front and back, and with nipple-clamps in place. She loved being horny at work and anticipating what might happen when she got out of work to start her weekend. The previous evening had been no exception! They had gone dancing at a private club, where clothing tended to be optional, and had found themselves being admired by many of the club’s patrons, as well as by Evan and Elise Dunbar – who joined them in a much more private party later in the evening. She loved seeing her friends naked! Elise, particularly, was breathtaking. 

Once she stepped out of the shower and dried off, Miranda sought out her toys. Her favorite plug, which she loved wearing every day, and her favorite dildo – the one that fit perfectly in her pussy as she walked around. As she got dressed, Miranda thought about her daughter’s last letter to her, and just to her and not to Jake.

**“** ** _I don’t know how to tell you this… and it may or may not be much of a surprise, but Harley and I are married. Yes. The M-word. I won’t go into the ins and outs of it, but I love her so much and she loves me and we exchanged… well, basically promises to each other. That’s what it takes in the magical world… that plus really, really deep-down “I’m-never-going-to-change-my-mind-about-this” kind of intent and enough magical power to make the intent real. No other kids could do this, but being a Mage and everything… well, that puts us in a completely different category of magic-user than the average witch or wizard. On the scary side, I can kill someone by simply looking at him or her and wanting that person to die. _ **

**_I know you’re probably freaking out at least a little bit at this point, but_** **_I promise that Harley and I will have a real ceremony and everything someday, when we’re 18 or 19, but for right now, we’re considered married in the eyes of magic. Harley even made me a ring! She learned how to make diamonds from coal and we already knew how to transfigure Gold, so she made me a beautiful blue-diamond solitaire ring. _**

** _Anyway, that’s not even the point of my letter. Remember that you said that by the time I’m 13, you’d get me ‘certain things’ ? Well… would it freak you out if I asked for them now? I’m randier than a cat in heat and Harley’s not ready to do anything physical yet (and I’m not going to push her) but I’m getting a little desperate! _ **

** _Love you,_ **

** _Hermione_ **

Miranda thought about the ‘care package’ that she was going to have to put together for her precocious daughter. Not like any package that  _ her  _ mother ever put together! She shook her head and laughed to herself. It was the oddest-damned situation that she could think of, but it apparently came with the territory as the mother of a witch. 

She was glad though that Hermione had the great good sense not to push Harley on being physical in their relationship.  _ I must have done something right for her to know that _ , as she thought as she started to consider what things to send her daughter. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**An hour later….**

Miranda had just finished the list for Hermione’s ‘care-package’ and was feeling more than a little randy herself. The toys in her sex and ass were tormenting her something wonderful. Every step made her think of sex, with Jake, or Elise or Evan or all of them together. She loved the way that Elise had danced naked in front of her, rubbing her sex and showing off her body as she gyrated and ground her body against Miranda’s. It made her think of all of the girls she had fucked in college and it wasn’t a small number. 

_ I hope Hermione and Harley…  _ Her thoughts drifted off, as she wasn’t sure what she wanted for them. Certainly she wanted them to be happy together and to love each other as much as she loved Jake. She also wanted them to have a long life together and, given what she knew about how long a witch could live, that would be a long time indeed. 

Jake had gotten up and had gone for a run, which was one of his ways of keeping so superbly fit and strong. Miranda would have joined him, but she was enjoying what she was enjoying and she knew that a slow build-up to an orgasm was the most fun. 

She had just walked back into the living-room when the doorbell rang. It was too early for salespeople and very few of them ever ventured down their long driveway, so it had to be something or somebody else. She grabbed her compact Berretta .45 and made her way to the door. Opening it slowly, she made sure that she’d be able to get in the first shot, if necessary. Fortunately, it wasn’t.

“Miranda!”

“Isabelle?” Miranda asked.

Isabelle nodded. Then she pulled on a leash and walked into Miranda’s home with a very large, black dog in tow. 

“Sit.” She said to the dog. “Stay.”

“Remember when I wrote you and told you that I’d need your help to hide someone for a while?”

Miranda nodded, but didn’t put down the .45. She was too aware that the magical world could fool a non-magical person very easily and she wasn’t about to disarm until she was quite sure that this was, in fact, Isabelle Ross. 

“What did you do to the blond fool in Diagon Alley?”

“I cut his wand in half.”

“Show me” Miranda said, still holding the loaded .45

Isabelle nodded and suddenly, a blue blade of light appeared from the end of her wand. Miranda nodded. “Thank you. Sorry. I had to make sure.”

“Good call, too. You were right to be careful.” Isabelle responded.

“Now, who’s this?” Miranda said, pointed to the dog. 

Isabelle grinned. “How did you know?”

“He doesn’t feel right, and he’s way too smart as a dog. He’s watched me the whole time and not gotten distracted. Dogs don’t do that. Plus, his eyes never left my gun-hand. He knows what it is and isn’t stupid enough to do something that would make me shoot him. He knows he’s vulnerable as a dog, since he doesn’t have a wand.”

Isabelle looked at Sirius and looked back at Miranda. “You know, I’d never have thought of that. I’m sure he’s just learned something valuable. Now, would you like to meet him?”

Miranda nodded, and then watched, wide-eyed as the big, black Grim became Sirius Black. 

“Lord Sirius Orion Black, meet Miranda Granger, mother of Lady Hermione Jane Dagworth-Granger.”

**“** Enchanté **,** Lady Granger.”

“ Et à vous, monsieur. Vous êtes les bienvenus chez nous. “

Sirius grinned. He hadn’t heard continental French in years and Miranda spoke with it with a lilting Parisienne accent. 

“Your accent is flawless, Miranda” Sirius said. 

“Thank you, kind sir!” she said, smiling. “I lived in Paris as a high-school student and then as an undergraduate.”

Miranda turned to Isabelle. “So, what do you need, specifically?”

“I need somewhere to hide Sirius. I can’t take him back to my house, because we’re doing as little magic there as is absolutely possible. The people who are still after me are looking for a magic user and I’m trying to live without it and that would be the direct opposite of what Sirius needs. He’s got to back to using his magic and re-working his skills. His family has a home in London, but that’s just way too close to the seat of Government for us. We’re hoping that Sirius can live with you two until he’s healthy – say… 6 months, and then we can think about securing a permanent home for him.”

“Well, we’ve got the room, but what about Hermione and Harley?”

“I’ve secured a temporary home in southern Norway, on the eastern slope of a beautiful lake, where we’ll be safe and can use magic. It’s more exposed than I’d like, for myself, but it’s safer for Harley and Hermione. They’ll have room to fly and to practice magic and no one will ask questions, most especially the Norwegian magical authorities.”  _ Not after the amount of gold I just put into their pockets,  _ she thought.

“What about Dumbledork?” Miranda asked, not quite laughing at the name. 

“We’ve got him constrained for right now. He can’t approach the girls, for fear of offending the Horde, as well as Hogwarts Board, which has taken an interesting turn in their favor.”

“I hope this isn’t an inconvenience, Miranda. Isabelle said that given the current situation with my goddaughter, she wanted someone close-by who could help protect you two, if things turned bad.”

Miranda studied him for a moment. “Well, it’s not like we don’t have the room, and certainly, the extra magical protection would be appreciated. Can you be a guard dog sometimes? I usually don’t worry about intruders, but we’re far enough into the woods that we could be a target.”

“Actually… I prefer to sleep as a dog. It’s, well… after being around the Dementors, it’s kind of all I know now.”

“Oh. I’m… well, I’m sorry. That sounds like it was awful.”

“More than you could ever know, Miranda” he said, quietly. And she could see the haunted look in his eyes. 

“Good, that’s settled then” Isabelle said. “Sirius and I will ward the hell out of this place before I leave today. No one’s going to get within a country mile of this place, especially if they carry the Dark Mark.”

Sirius looked at Miranda and then said, “We’re going to need some of your blood for the ward-stones. With the three of us, it would take a small army to get in here.”

“Well, at least I can do  _ something _ ” Miranda replied. “What about my husband, Jake?”

“The more, the merrier, Miranda. Wards are all about intent and power. Isabelle and I are plenty powerful to set them, but it takes your strong intent to get them to settle properly. With you and Jake, it will be just that much better.”

“Will we be able to add Hermione to them later on?”

“Actually, the sad thing is that Hermione could come in here and build wards, by herself, that not even God could get through, but she’s in school and doesn’t have time to do so. However, we will add her blood to the ward-stone at the right time.” Isabelle said; turning to walk towards the door.

“No time like the present, I guess” Sirius said, and followed Isabelle. Miranda shrugged and went back to the kitchen for her first cup of coffee. She had put it off as long as she could stand, but it was that time and she just really needed a carafe of coffee. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

An hour later, Jake got back from his run and was introduced to Sirius – and Padfoot. 

“I guess Hermione was right about the magical world being more amazing that we could have imagined.” Jake said, smiling. 

“It’s all of that and then some” Sirius said as the two men nursed mugs of tea. Isabelle had taken her leave, after they got the initial ward-work done. “Speaking of magic, I hear that Hermione is hot shit and a Mage on top of it. How does  _ that _ feel?”

Jake rolled his eyes and Miranda sighed. “You know, when you have children, that you expect that at least until they’re 16 or 17, you’ll be able to discipline them and that they’ll have a modicum of fear for you as a parent, right?”

“Don’t know. Have gotten a chance to have children. Unlikely that I ever will though, because of my time away… but anyway, continue.”

“So, with Hermione, given how powerful she is, it’s unlikely that she’s going to take us seriously if we even so much as try to ground her or something. And God knows, if we get Harley mad at us, that girl is a terror and she’s like… 9 months younger than Hermione!”

“I’ve never dealt with a Mage before. No one has, actually. Dumbledork is the only one I knew of in Europe – well, him and the Dark Lord – but I guess Harley put paid to ‘he-who-must-not-be-named’ this last fall.”

Jake looked at him quizzically. “He-who-must-not-be-named?”

“Yea… it’s what people used in place of the name “Voldemort”. You see, for a long time, the Dark Lord had put a curse on his name, so that if anyone said it, the Dark Lord’s forces would know enough to track down the speaker and kill him or her. The Dark Lord felt that if anyone was brave enough to dare say his name, that that person constituted a threat and had to be killed. Now, I  _ think _ that the Dark Lord’s real name is Tom Riddle. And I think that my older brother, Regulus, figured it out first and was killed for it. I’ve not gotten a chance to research it, but if I’m right, then the Dark Lord isn’t a lord at all and he’s actually a half-blood; born of a witch and a Muggle.”

“What does that mean for Hermione or Harley?”

“Well, you both know that Harley was born a boy – my godson – Harry James Potter. His parents, James and Lily Potter, were Aurors and fought against the Dark Lord. They fought him three times in battle and lived to tell about it, which is huge, considering how much more powerful the Dark Lord was than everyone else, save Dumbledore. Now Harry – Harley – is the ‘boy who lived’. The Dark Lord found Lily and James’ hiding place in Godric’s Hollow and killed them. However, when he attacked Harry, the curse rebounded and destroyed the Dark Lord. Now, I have it on good authority, which is to say a memory that Isabelle showed me, that was given to her by Hermione, that showed the Dark Lord’s soul, in spectral form, leaving the body of a teacher whom he apparently had mentally and physically highjacked, named Quirinius Quirrell.”

Now both Jake and Miranda were listening to him intently, so Sirius continued, “Now, part of that memory that Hermione gave to Isabelle showed what I and others think was a piece of the Dark Lord’s soul, which had imbedded itself in Harley when she was attacked as Harry, that awful night in Godric’s Hollow, leaving Harley’s body and re-joining the Dark Lord’s spectral existence.”

“So you’re saying that a piece of the Dark Lord had been clinging to Harley for years and was finally set free somehow, and that that piece re-joined a larger soul-piece that’s now floating around free somewhere?”

“That’s pretty much it, exactly. I know it’s a lot to take in, but it’s the truth, as far as we can figure it.” Sirius said, as he watched the concerned expressions on the faces of Jake and Miranda.

“How does this affect Hermione?” Miranda asked.

“Well, it doesn’t, at least not directly. Harley’s now free of the Dark Lord’s soul-piece, which means she’s free of any possible influence that the Dark Lord might have had over her. Also, she’s free of whatever magical drain there might have been on her magic, which is one reason that I think that she’s grown so powerful: Her magic had been subject to an on-going syphon for more than 10 years and suddenly…Wham! She’s free of the syphon and her magic is just growing like mad, now that some portion of it is not being drained off. I think that maybe in the next year or two, her magic will be close to its full capacity, but right now? It’s still growing. She’s likely to be the single most powerful magic-user in the world for the next couple of centuries.”

“So… where does that leave Hermione?” Jake asked.

Sirius continued, more quietly. “Look, if Magi come in pairs, Hermione’s magic will grow in a corresponding fashion. She may never be exactly as powerful as Harley, but she’ll be close. And close means that your daughter will be the closest thing you’ll ever meet to a living god. And I mean that honestly and without inflation or bragging. Short of raising the dead, there will be very little that will be beyond the reach of your daughter. There’s a reason that Albus Dumbledore is feared the world over. He’s a magus and, despite how little we’ve seen of his magic in these last twenty years, capable of doing things that would make you piss yourself with fear. People do what Albus asks because, in part, they’re scared shitless of him.”

Jake looked at him, rubbed his eyes, and then sat down, hard. “You’re not kidding, are you?”

Sirius shook his head. “No, I really am not. I’m not, because to lie to you would be unproductive. You need to know that Hermione will be able to do pretty much anything she sets her mind to doing – from conjuring a hurricane to levelling a mountain or growing a mountain. She will be able to call meteors out of the sky or travel instantly, to any place on the planet. God forbid that anything happens to either of you or to Harley, because in her grief and anger, her wrath would be end-of-the-world kind of terrible and no one could stop her.”

Miranda and Jake didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. No one had ever prepared them for learning that their daughter was a goddess-in-training. It made Hermione’s private letter to her all the funnier. Here was a twelve-and-a-half year old girl, with the powers of a Goddess blooming at her fingertips and her biggest concern?  _ I’m horny. _

“Let me say one more thing. When Hermione and Harley come of age, they are going to command authority and respect such as you’ve never seen it. Her Majesty, the Queen, commands people’s respect, because she is gracious and kind and has led England for a long time. People will treat our girls with respect that is born of  _ terror _ at what they could do, if they put their minds to it. Their greatest challenge will be to lead by example and justice, instead of through fear and power. When Harley or Hermione enters a room, people will bow and some of them will kneel, because those two will  _ be _ the leadership of the country, whether they want it or not.”

“I don’t even know where to begin with all of that, Sirius.”

“I know. I’m not sure I do either. I never expected to have a god-daughter, instead of a god-son and I sure as hell never expected her to have the kind of power that Isabelle says Harley throws around so casually.”

“And you can turn into a dog! Can every witch or wizard do that?”

Sirius grinned. “No. There are were at least nine that I knew of. Dumbledore becomes a goat, Minerva is a Kneazle, I’m a dog, James Potter became a stag, Peter Pettigrew becomes a rat, Aberforth Dumbledore becomes an Eagle, and Talbott Winger became an Eagle. Voldemort’s pet, Nagini was actually a woman who suffered from the _Maledictus_ _Curse_, and Lily Potter was a doe.”

“Do you think Hermione…?”

“Hermione can do anything she wants. She probably could have multiple forms, based on her power, but I’m not positive of that.”

Miranda looked at Sirius and said, in a very small voice, “What happens if she gets mad at us?”

It was the question that ever non-magical parent eventually came to. The fear of a magical child who could hurt them. 

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, Miranda”

“Why not?”

“Because Hermione would kill herself rather than hurt you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because… and you can’t ever talk about this, ever, under any circumstances, with anyone. Understand?”

They both nodded.

“Children of non-magical parents take a binding magical oath, when they first come to school, that prevents them from ever hurting their parents with magic. It’s a binding, fatal oath if ever broken.”

Miranda and Jake looked ashen-faced and horrified. Miranda started crying; leaning against Jake.

“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you that, but I wanted you both to know that, at least around Hermione, you’re safe.” Jake caught the immediate implication that around other magic users, that wasn’t the case.

“What about…?”

“Harley?” Sirius replied, hearing the implicit question. “You’re protected by her marriage oath to Hermione. I don’t know exactly what they promised to each other, and it’s not my place ever to ask, but Harley would never do anything that would hurt Hermione.”

Jake looked at him, relieved… right up until the point where he realized what the man had just said.  _ “MARRIAGE! What in the bloody hell do you mean by ‘marriage’.” _

Sirius looked at Miranda, who shrugged, and then at Jake, sheepishly. “I’m sorry… I thought you knew. Yes, Hermione and Harley are married. It was all over the paper.”

“I think you better go back to the beginning and tell us what happened.”

“Ok, remember that I just heard about it too and saw the article in the paper. I’ll tell you what I can, but I don’t have a copy of it and can’t get one unless I take the risk of going to Diagon Alley. Alternatively, you could get a post-owl for yourselves and subscribe to the paper. I’ll even pay for the subscription, if you’d like.”

Jake looked at Miranda and she understood the request that she get it done, asap. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

It took more than an hour to calm Jake down from his initial explosion of temper and to reassure him that his daughter was still pure and innocent and would remain that way for several more years (probably). He had to be reminded that he couldn’t exactly forbid them from doing anything, since they existed as exceptions to most rules – magical marriage being one of those. 

The up-side of having Sirius as their long-term house-guest was that they knew they’d learn a great deal about the magical world that they didn’t know before and they’d always have someone around to protect them. It also helped that Sirius was the sole heir to a massive fortune and could buy for himself pretty much anything he wanted. One of those things was an owl for the house. His name was Francis and he was a Great-Horned Owl who, though obedient enough for post and the like, preferred to sleep under a specially built shelter outside, that Sirius created. It had a full roof and walls on both sides, a magically heated perch that was spelled for cleanliness, and a heating-charm for the winter, to keep it ice-free and sheltered against cold winds. It was snug against a large oak tree that was next to the house and camouflaged so that unless you were looking directly at him, you would miss his presence altogether. Miranda and Jake both thought it perfect. They hadn’t cottoned to the idea of a bird inside their house and decided that Francis’ perch was a great compromise. They had no idea that feeding him live mice and voles would become somewhat of a betting pastime; the winner determined by how fast it took Francis to see the mouse or vole and then come out of his tree and hunt it down. 

They would be slightly less pleased when Hermione would eventually bring home a Hippogriff and Harley, a Griffon; Buckbeak and Godric, respectively. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

It would be later on that day, in the privacy of their bedroom, that Miranda would share with Jake the real reason that Isabelle had brought Sirius to them and what the threat meant for Harley and Hermione. 

Jake thought it less than funny that Harley and Hermione were taking the threat in stride, until he realized that, just as Sun Tzu had said, a threat known becomes, not a weapon in your enemies’ hands, but one in your own.  _ ( _ Jake knew that what Sun Tzu had really said was, “ _ To secure ourselves against defeat lies in our own hands, but the opportunity of defeating the enemy is provided by the enemy himself _ ”) but it didn’t matter – the point was the same. 

Harley and Hermione were not stupid. Naïve, yes, but stupid, no. With more experience, they would be… anything they wanted to be, without regard to perceived societal limitations. 

Jake tried to think about the ways he could help the girls. Certainly, teaching them good judgement was paramount. Miranda would teach them kindness, manners, courage, and a host of other things, but he could teach them tactical as well as situational judgement, and maybe even some morals along the way. He might also be able to teach them how to fish, how to swing a cricket bat, play football (though he thought Hermione was already pretty good at it), and how to cook. Hermione needed a lot more work in that department. Those weren’t the only skills that they had as parents, but those were the ones that occurred to him first.

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**Saturday, May 30, 1992 – Ragnok’s office, Gringotts – London – 9AM**

Ragnok was a prompt Goblin. Work started at 9 and he was there for 9. Just because he was the boss and the Lord Goblin in London, didn’t mean that he got paid for being there any earlier than was absolutely necessary. That didn’t mean that the bank ever closed, actually, but that was only because certain clients rated more attention outside of normal business hours, than others. The first missive on Ragnok’s desk, in fact, was from one of those kinds of clients. 

Like every other important CEO, his correspondence was waiting for him on his desk, arranged by order of perceived importance. One of the letters near the top of the pile was the one from…  _ Lord Black? _

Ragnok used one of his own, sharpened claws to rip the envelope open. He grinned when he saw the straight line that his magically sharpened claw still made. It was, after all, a very close-in weapon. After removing the letter from the envelope, he straightened it and began to read:

**29 May 1992**

**Lord Ragnok the Fifth**

**Gringotts Bank**

**Diagon Alley**

**London, UK **

**Dear Lord Ragnok:**

**The House of Black celebrates your ascendency to the throne and regrets our absence from your installation. We ask forgiveness for our discourtesy and hope that we can renew ties that will be productive and profitable in the near future. **

**I know that you are wondering how it is possible that I am writing to you. As honesty with you and the Horde is always of preeminent importance and wisdom, I will tell you that I ‘let myself out’. Since I had never actually been charged with a crime or given a trial or anything, I was being held unlawfully. I remedied that situation and took leave of Azkaban recently. The guards are still looking for me? I think? There hasn’t been a notice in the paper that anyone has seen, and we’re curious as to whether they actually know I’m gone or not. Dementors are evil, but they’re not intelligent, and it’s impossible to tell if they even know I’m no longer there. The few human guards that they ** ** _do _ ** **have, would actually have to look into my former cell and I know they do that only every other week, if they check at all.**

**Now, as to the purpose of my letter. I wish to reactivate all of the Black holdings and restore the house to its former power. I have affixed my stamp to this letter, so that Gringotts can begin actively investing on my behalf once again. I hear from my god-daughter, Harley Janel Ross, that you are investing on her behalf and are doing well by her. Please do for me what you are doing for her. I trust you and I trust your people and I know that we will all make money together. **

**PS – you might want to look into the fact that the authorities at Azkaban actively denied me my statements from Gringotts. **

**Sincerely,**

**Sirius Orion Black**

**Lord, ** **Pro tempore**

Ragnok sat back and thought about what he had just read. Three things jumped out at him. One was the fact that the Black Holdings were being taken out of administrative guardianship and set back to active account management, the second, and far more important, was that Sirius Black acknowledged his magical responsibilities to Harley Janel Ross, as her Godfather, and seemed willing to re-insert himself into that role for her, as he would have done for his godson, Harry James Potter, who no longer existed. It would be interesting to see if he would re-swear the Godfather’s oath to her. 

The third item was that Lord Black, pro tempore, had been denied his right as an account holder at Gringotts. That violated the Treaty of 1789, led by Urg the Unclean, between the Goblins and the Ministry for Magic. The settlement of that rebellion saw the Ministry giving over to Gringotts the right to control the money and all British magical accounts, in exchange for giving up wand-rights… and this just busted that wide open. Ragnok grinned. If he played it right, there was a new Dawn of Freedom coming for all Goblins, everywhere. All 90+ million of them. 

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**Department of Mysteries; Ministry for Magic, office of the Head Unspeakable, Saul Croaker – May 30, 1992**

If it were possible for Saul Croaker to be any quieter, it wasn’t known. His ability to come and go, absolutely silently, was something that had saved his life more than once and was one of the things that recommended him for the job… that plus a NEWT for every course offered except for Muggle Studies, and masteries in multiple disciplines. He was  _ “ _ _ a rumor, recognizable only as Deja vu and dismissed just as quickly” _ as the saying went… except to those who knew him personally. Those people he could count on two hands. His staff all knew him, but they were sworn to vows of silence that would make the Vatican envious.

Unfortunately, this day, human nature got ahead of the disciplined mind, as he read the latest intel reports. “ _ GOD DAMNED SON OF A FUCKING BITCH! JANE! Get the head of Prisons here ASAP!” _

Jane Court moved with alacrity to summon the head of Prisons, Werner Klemperer. He was a German, ja? And Jane thought his accent was funny. 

Croaker, on the other hand, found it less than amusing. He was annoyed by the fact that when pressed, Werner would always say, “I know nothing, I see nothing.”

It was somewhat of a joke, of course, because the man had a magical eye-piece, a monocle, similar to the eye worn my Mad-eye Moody, the famous Auror, that took in everything. It could see through invisibility cloaks, illusions, and most other ways of hiding or obscuring things. 

It took ten minutes before Colonel Klemperer appeared in Saul’s office.

“What’s got a bug up your ass, Saul?”

“This, you SOB” and Saul thrust a page towards him. 

Werner took it out of the man’s outstretched hand and read it quickly. Then he swore. 

“That’s what I said. Now, what the fuck is going on at Azkaban that Sirius Black could escape, and potentially as much as a month ago, and we’re just getting word of it now?”

“I don’t know. But we’ve obviously mis-judged our security measures.”

“Then get your ass out there and fix it. I want every prisoner checked, personally. I want the Dementors out of there, killed if possible. Recruit the Goblin guard corp. Do whatever you have to do, but lock down that god damned place and don’t let this happen again.”

“Yes, sir.” Werner said, and he turned and left.

The moment the man was gone, Saul cried out for his right-hand girl. “Jane, I need you.”

Like always, she came scampering. “You probably already know, and have already started, the next project, but I’ll say it anyway. I need a letter drafted to Amelia Bones, letting her know that Sirius Black has let himself out of prison and that she needs to put out a BOLO for him.”

Jane nodded. Yes, she was already ahead of him on it, and no he didn’t have to say it, but that was alright. It was the downside of being as smart as your boss – you often thought in the same direction. 

The letter went out a half-hour later. Thank god for a bespelled calligraphy pen! It was a thousand times better than a quill; faster, cleaner, less expensive, and of a higher quality than anything except for the holy grail of writing instruments: the quill of a Phoenix. That actually imbued one’s writing with a magic that just couldn’t be duplicated anywhere else. 

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**Approx. 11 am – Office of Amelia Bones, DMLE, London**

There were days when it just didn’t pay to get up. Amelia thought that it was a terrible thing to be pulled away from her bed. Her blankets and pillow had just accepted her as one of their own and now she had to abandon them. But, she had to adult, since she had Susan to take care of and a household to run and there was nothing for it but to do it. It sucked that her coffee appeared to be broken, since she still didn’t feel awake and she was already 24 oz. into a 32 oz mug.

She was just sitting down to take in the morning’s latest reports on recidivism rates and her Majesty’s government’s take on best practices for combating a tendency towards a revolving door between the courts and the prisons when a letter flew into her office. She grabbed the paper airplane out of the air and tapped it once with her wand, to turn it back into a proper document. 

Once she had done so, she realized that it was marked “URGENT” and “FOR YOUR EYES ONLY”. 

She tapped it with her wand and said, “Destruct Sequence One, Code One, One A”, knowing that no other magical, especially any other pureblood, would know the passwords’ origin. 

The paper dutifully unfolded itself and lay flat in her hand. It was every bit as hot as its security and encryption-level promised. She read it, and then re-read it more slowly, to make sure she took it all in, and then said, as much to herself as to anyone else, “ _ ah shit.” _

Amelia knew what she had to do. It wasn’t going to be pleasant, but it had to be done. She got up, walked over to the wall, where there was an indent in the wall, at about 5’ off the ground. She threw in some red floo powder and then said, “Minerva McGonagall’s Office” clearly and distinctly. The magical fire sprang up and soon, Amelia could see Minerva’s face looking back at her, through the fire-call. 

“Minerva, you’ve been a bad girl. I just got word that Sirius Black has been sprung from Azkaban, by person or persons unknown.”

Minerva looked back at her, with an exasperated sigh. “Not my doing, at least not directly, but yes… I instigated it.”

“Well, if it wasn’t you, who was it?”

“You understand that this can’t go any farther than the two of us, right?”

“Of course I do, Minnie! That’s why I called. I’ve got to figure a way to throw someone under the bus who really deserves it, while squashing any serious hunt.” She groaned at the pun, but there was nothing she could do about it.

“It was Isabelle. She figured a way to get Sirius out of there and given the recent threat against her daughter, I can understand why.”

Amelia looked at her, and then said, “What threat?”

“Oh. Sorry. I haven’t had a chance to talk to anyone about this, since I’m busy dodging Albus and trying to keep him from being able to recruit a DADA professor who will side with him and tip the balance of power around here… and at the same time teach to two fucking terrors who keep messing up my lesson plans.”

Amelia knew immediately who the two “fucking terrors” were and had to laugh. “Is it really that bad?”

“I tell you what. You take a day out of your office and drag your sorry ass up here and come see for yourself. You’re not going to believe what these two can do, wandlessly, soundlessly”

Amelia doubted that, but didn’t say anything. “So tell me about the threat.”

So Minerva did. It took about five minutes to talk her through what had happened and how the girls had come across the information.

“So, tell me again why Lucius Malfoy would turn against his own, to side with Harley and Hermione?”

“Yea, about that. Three things. One, Lucius’ son was attacked, using the Cruciatus, and the girls castrated the two 7 th -year boys who did it. You know that, right?”

Amelia looked at her and sighed. “Yes, of course. I even made a statement in the paper about it.”

“Well, you remember that we couldn’t make their wands prove it, through  _ Priori Incantatum _ , but the effects of the Cruciatus curse can’t be faked. Harley rescued Draco, got him to the Infirmary, and then went hunting the two Slytherins. Hermione guarded Draco while Harley dispensed justice. So Lucius figured he owed the girls for that. Second, the girls have apparently taught Draco a bunch of the magic that they’ve been learning, completely ignoring the fact that he’s a Slytherin. They don’t seem to care. He’s been teaching them pure-blood etiquette, and helping them to learn about our culture. Lucius was so impressed and appreciative that he figured he owed them for that.

Third, apparently Harley and Hermione taught Lucius how to pull Gold right out of the ground. Literally extract it, as much as he wants. Lucius has been seen, running around the countryside with Narcissa at his side, having a grand old time. He was actually seen, standing in a creek, in bare feet, looking for something, while Narcissa was smiling and laughing.”

“So these two have effectively hamstrung the Dark Lord, by buying the love and loyalty of the Dark Lord’s principle financial backer? And oh, by the way, claiming vengeance in defense of same said backer’s son?”

“Yea, more or less. That’s why we have to be really careful. We’ve identified most of the Dark Lord’s followers now, the ones who walked away the last time, after claiming that they were  _ Imperious’ed.  _ McNair’s dead, Yaxley has made a blood-enemy by using his daughter, Irina, to spy on Harley and Hermione, and Lucius has been co-opted.”

“So all I have to do is dissuade the powers-that-be that looking for Sirius is a good idea? And throw one of our enemies under the bus for having lost him in the first place?”

“More or less. Can you do it? Because, as awful as it is, Harley will happily kill anyone who threatens her family, and you know that she just doesn’t care what anyone thinks.”

Amelia rubbed the bridge of her nose and then nodded. “Ok, let me get to work here and see what I can do. No promises, but I’ll scuttle as much of the investigation as possible.”

“You might also look at the fact that Sirius wasn’t ever given a trial and was never actually charged with a crime.”

That made Amelia’s eyes go wide. “I can work with that, definitely. Thanks.”

Minerva cut the connection and returned to her desk. It was nice to work with someone who had her shit together.

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**10:15 am, Sat., June 13** **th** **, 1992 - onboard Hogwarts Express towards London, UK**

Hermione had just returned to their private carriage, after giving each of the 1 st -year girls, all thirty-two of them, across the four houses, their gifts. The Slytherins got a 22 ct. gold chain, with a small Gold snake that had real diamonds for eyes. The Badgers got the same necklace, but with a badger made of black and clear diamond, wound together – which violated not one, but three different parts of Gamp’s Law. The Ravenclaw girls received the same necklace, but with a raven made entirely of black diamond, with a single, perfect yellow diamond as an eye. Not to be outdone though, Harley had crafted for the Gryffindor girls a double-think 22ct gold necklace with more than a dozen perfect white diamonds. They were breathtaking. 

For Draco to give to his mother, Hermione made a perfect star-shaped diamond, and dangled it from a Mithril necklace, which she had bought outright from the Goblins – which means that it was a Malfoy treasure, for as long as the house lasted and didn’t have to be given back to the Goblins when Narcissa died. It was gorgeous. Draco had actually kissed her cheek and thanked her through tears he was fighting to hold back when she gave it to him. 

As Hermione fell into Harley’s arms in “their” carriage, she said, “Think we went overboard on the gifts?”

“Nah. It was good practice though. I think I could make one of those necklaces with my eyes closed now.”

“What are we going to do with that giant blue diamond you found in the Room of lost things?”

“I don’t know. Professor Flitwick thought it was close to 400 carats and it’s a flawless blue diamond. Gotta be worth something.”

Hermione thought that was an understatement, but let it go. How much it was worth was all speculation until or unless they tried to sell it, which they weren’t going to do… at least not yet.

“What are we going to do with that bag of Roman coins?” Harley asked as they snuggled under a blanket together. 

Hermione shrugged, turning her face to Harley’s. “I don’t know. I don’t want them confiscated by the government as being a national treasure, but they’re worth a pile.”

“Should we give them to my mother or to your parents?”

“My parents have enough, with what I gave them. I’d say give them to your mother. She had to buy the new house, and the car, and everything else. She could probably use the cash.”

“Maybe. I’ll ask her when we see her. By the way, when we leave the train, I want Susan with us, along with Nymphadora Tonks and Charlie Weasley. I don’t want you out of my sight at any point, ok?”

Hermione looked into Harley’s eyes. She saw the love that Harley had for her and knew why Harley was looking for a phalanx of protection around her. A part of her resisted the idea of being so tightly protected, but another part of her appreciated it. She also knew that if something happened to her, Harley would go on a one-girl rampage that would make Grindelwald look like a rank amateur. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Six hours later, the Hogwarts Express pulled into Track 9 & ¾, precisely on-time. As the clouds of steam rolled down from the engine, as a part of its cool-down and depressurization, the students started their off-load. Elves could be seen flitting around, grabbing bags and popping away. Dobby was already at Hermione’s home in Colgate, waiting for the girls to arrive. Harley had wanted to use him for transport, but Hermione had put her foot down and said that it wasn’t fair to do that to Dobby. Harley had her doubts about that, but hadn’t wanted to start a fight with her girl. Her  _ wife.  _

Just as Harley had asked, Both Charlie Weasley and Nymphadora Tonks showed up at the doorway to their carriage, along with Susan Bones. Harley looked at them, smiled, and then said, “Ready?”

They all nodded. Nymphadora and Charlie went first, then Hermione and Susan, and Harley brought up the rear. They were clear of the train in a minute and half-way down the platform in another two. They were almost at the portal to the Muggle world when a  _ Reducto _ slammed into the arch over the door. Harley’s mind went into overdrive. “Take Hermione! RUN! Susan, with me!” Harley grabbed Susan and they turned, wands out and swords lit. Almost immediately, another  _ Reducto _ flew straight at Harley, which she shielded against. Then one almost took out Susan, but she side-stepped it and saw it hit the Train. Their adversaries obvious: Felix Brunt and Terrance Higgs. 

The boys had wands out and were firing at them, but it was obvious that they were so terrified that they couldn’t aim properly. Harley didn’t bother being fancy about her attack. She simply reached out with her magic and banged their heads together, as hard as she could. There was a sickening  _ crack _ as she did so, but she didn’t lose focus. There was another scream and a young man whose wand was out and pointing at them fell apart as Susan’s sword cut him in half at the waist. 

What she wasn’t prepared for was the adult behind the two boys. Harley thought she recognized him as he snarled the Death Curse. Harley pushed Susan out of the way, causing the spell to miss both of them. Unfortunately, it hit one of the conductors who was just getting off the train and the man slumped over, instantly dead. 

Now there was screaming everywhere, but somehow Harley didn’t listen to it. All she could do was focus on the man, pointing a wand at her chest. She closed the distance at a run and with a single swipe, he fell into four pieces, dead. 

There was blood everywhere as Aurors started appearing all over the platform and Harley slumped down next to Susan. She was looking at her arms. There was blood everywhere, but none of it was hers.  _ Well, shit.  _ She thought. She had hoped to have a quiet ride home to Hermione’s parents’ house, but apparently, Murphy didn’t like her very much.

Finally, Amelia Bones appeared. She looked at Harley and then saw her niece and started crying. It took several minutes for her tears to stop and her professional demeanor to return. When it did, it was obvious that she was shocked at what lay all around her. 

“I’m sorry” Harley got out, before Amelia could say anything. Then she said, “Your niece saved my life.”

_ But at what cost? _ Amelia thought, looking at her blood-covered niece. Several DMLE Aurors, including a tall, bald, black man with a single earring, were cataloging the bodies and directing the photographers while they documented the scene. Finally, Amelia said, “Which one of you killed Rufus?” she asked, pointing to the body in four pieces on the ground behind them. 

“That was me, Madame Bones. He fired the Avada curse at me, missed me and Susan, and killed someone over, behind us. I didn’t want to give him another chance.”

“You killed the other one, Susi?”

Susan Bones simply nodded. She was trying not to cry, and to be brave for her aunt, not knowing that her aunt would tell her that she  _ had _ to let it out, in order to be healthy and sane. 

Harley grabbed her, gently, and spun her around so that she could hug her. “Thanks, sweetie. You saved my life. I owe you.”

Now Susan was crying, and that was good, Harley knew. Keeping stuff bottled up inside was really bad. That she had learned from her mother. 

Amelia watched them for another moment, and then walked off. She had heard enough from them to know they were telling the truth and that all of their actions had been in self-defense. 

Less than a half-hour later, Shack walked up to her and said quietly, “It’s a god-damned mess, but the two boys will live. Not well, but they’ll live. They both have brain-trauma and cerebral hemorrhaging. The up-side is that we’re already starting to get a picture of what went down. Lady Ross castrated these two bastards after they attacked Draco Malfoy and she didn’t finish the job. They thought that they’d kill her in revenge. You can surmise Rufus’ story. He was pissed at getting RIF’d. The other dead guy is one of Higgs’ cousins whom they roped into helping in the attack. The train conductor, William “Steel” Gauge, was killed with the death curse, but I suspect you already knew that.”

Amelia nodded. “Get the bodies documented, tell our people to collect as many memories as possible of the fight, and then let’s get this place cleaned up.”

“Will do. I suggest that you take your niece home now, and get Lady Ross to safety, wherever she was going.”

“Good idea, Shack. Thanks. 

She watched him walk off, before turning to go and collect her niece. She found the two girls a ways down the platform, nearer to the portal, where they were speaking in whispers and looking around as they did so. Someone had cleaned up her niece, such that it would have been impossible to tell that the girl had ever been in a fight to the death. 

Amelia watched as Harley put her hand gently to Susan’s cheek, before calling out to the air, it seemed, and a moment later, being popped away by a house-elf. 

Susan watched her aunt approach. Amelia was taking in everything and Susi could tell. She had watched her aunt for years and she always knew when Amelia was using her mind-arts to record a scene for later recollection.

“Since when did Lady Ross have a house-elf?”

“Oh… sometime in the Spring. The Malfoys sent him to her, since he’s a little touched in the head. He wants to be paid. Harley was willing. Now he is the highest paid elf in the world. Three Galleons a month a three Sundays off.”

“Do you know where he took Harley?”

Susan shook her head. “Family secret and Harley’s not the secret-keeper.”. 

That rattled some cages in Amelia’s mind. Having lots of properties around the UK protected by the  _ Fidelius _ charm made law-enforcement that much harder. Given the complexity and difficulty of the charm, not many took advantage of its power, but those who did benefited greatly. The fewer who knew a secret, at the secret’s inception, the more powerful the protection. Anything less than five was considered close to invulnerable. 

“What were you talking about before she left?”

“I can’t talk about it right now, but if things go the way we think they are, you’ll know in early September.”

Amelia didn’t like it, but she didn’t have much choice. She did, however, have the ability to significantly ramp up her niece’s magical training… and that would begin with getting her an exemption to the underage magic rule. That was one of the perks of the office, fortunately. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**12 Forest Lane, Colgate, UK**

Harley  _ popped _ out of nowhere, right in the middle of the living-room of Hermione’s parents’ house. She looked around, and couldn’t see anyone. It made her panicky, and she put all of her magic into her scream, “Hermione!”

The power of her scream was such that it carried for miles in very direction. When no one answered, she started hyperventilating and her magic kicked up to a wholly new level. She ran outside and did something that she had never done before. She shoved her wand into the air and called magic to her. She gathered in waves: towering, massive waves of magic. It pulsed and grew until she could almost not control it anymore. She willed Hermione to hear her, wherever she was. The magic went out from her, like a sonic boom, but more powerful than all the sonic booms that had ever been created. 

There was nowhere anyone could go that they didn’t hear the cry, “ _ HERMIONE!” _ The anguish in the sound made even non-magicals stand and weep for the desperation that they felt wash through them. 

Twenty-five miles away, Hermione was sitting in a car, in dead stand-still traffic. The sound washed over her and in a second, Hermione was out the door of the car, running along the break-down lane, until she had a clear spot. What happened next is matter of speculation. Some say that she simply folded space and disappeared. Some say she simply Apparated. Others, however, feel that something altogether new happened that was unique to Hermione. 

What  _ actually _ happened, from Hermione’s perspective, was that she rose into the air, and willed herself to Harley’s side. What people saw was a girl running along the side of the road jump into the air and disappear, leaving only a sun-bright, white flash and then stillness, as if nothing had ever happened. 

Jake and Miranda saw Hermione rise into the air and disappear. They instinctively knew where she was going and envied her the ability to come and go as she pleased. 

A moment later, Hermione appeared in the driveway of her parents’ home. Harley was standing there, crying desperate tears. Hermione grabbed her and the two wrapped around each other like two pieces of dough, rolled together. 

It’s often said that moments of extraordinary emotional stress allow people to do things that they couldn’t otherwise do. That’s true with magicals as well, since all magic is driven by will, and pushed by emotion. In this instance, it allowed the two to finish their bonding, several years ahead of when it might have otherwise.

_ “Don’t ever leave me! I love you!”  _ Harley said, as she buried her face in Hermione’s neck. 

“ _ I’ll never leave you, Harley. I’m yours forever.” _

And that’s all it took for them. Not fancy words or promises, just the assurance that neither would ever be alone. Hermione could feel her magic, and feel Harley’s as well. Harley looked at her in wonder. “I can feel your magic… I can feel how you’re feeling!”

Hermione smiled through happy tears. “We’re bonded, Harley.”

“I can feel it. It’s…oh my God, Hermione.”

The two crashed together, kissing like they had never kissed before. Hermione moaned as Harley’s hands moved down to her bottom and pulled her close. Hermione returned the favor. It wasn’t like they were going to be interrupted anytime soon, so the kissing went on for a very long while. Finally, they broke off, if only to get a breath, before Hermione said, “I want you. I want to get naked with you and do things… “

“I know” Harley said, “but I’m not sure I’m ready. But if you show me how to please  _ you _ , I will….”

Hermione thought about that and realized that there were things that they could do that didn’t necessarily mean (at least for right now) the loss of her innocence. Clothes yes, but innocence, no. However, the word “clothes” somehow made her think of Dobby… and that thought led to  _ her parents. _ “Dobby!”

The excitable elf appeared with a pop, out of nowhere.  _ “Mistress Harley’s Grangey calls Dobby?” _ he said. 

“Oh yes Dobby! I need you, please… go to my parents and tell them that I’m alright and that I’m with Harley and that I love them? Please?”

“Dobby is doing, Mistress Grangey” and with that, he  _ popped! _ away. 

“I’ve got to learn how to do that.”

A minute later he returned, and looked at Hermione. “Yous parents say that they love you and that they’re glad you’re safe, Mistress Grangey. They said that they will be home when they can, but not to worry.”

Hermione reached out to Dobby and then to Harley. “Group hug”

Dobby didn’t know what to make of it, but he accepted the hug and then  _ popped! _ away. 

Hermione was still feeling horny and now she knew she had at least a half-hour, maybe more, during which she could let Harley have her wicked way with her body. 

She took Harley by the hand and led her into the house and up to her bedroom. There she found a box with a bow on it, and a note saying, “ _ Read the directions, if you have questions. Wash your toys always, after you’re finished. Lubricants are good and are your friend. Love, Mom. _

Hermione giggled and then looked at Harley, who had no idea what was about to happen, but could feel the excitement and the desire flowing from her girl. With a wave of her hand, Hermione’s bedroom door closed and locked itself. Then Hermione stood up and peeled out of her t-shirt and her jeans. Harley looked at her girls’ beautiful, developing body, her perfect skin, and at the sexy, pink-cotton G-string panties. 

Not to be out-done, Harley stood and stripped out her clothes too, leaving her in white silk bikini panties – a gift from Hermione on Valentine's day. Harley wasn’t as developed as Hermione, but she knew that it didn’t matter. She wasn’t competing against anyone. She was Hermione’s and Hermione was hers. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Two hours later….**

Hermione roused to the sound of car-doors closing and her father’s strong tenor voice, calling for her. Fortunately, she was on the edge of the bed, facing her door. Quietly, so as to not wake Harley, Hermione got up and dressed quickly, taking a moment to cover Harley with a blanket, before slipping out the door, closing it behind her, and making her way down the stairs. 

The moment she saw her parents, she ran to them and hugged them both fiercely. Miranda hugged her daughter and then asked the standard set of parental questions. Hermione answered all of them, in order, as calmly as she could. When she got to the question about Harley however, she had to slow down and explain, in between tears that she had to wipe away. 

“So, Harley pushed me through the portal, with Nymphadora Tonks and Charlie Weasley, and then went off to fight. She killed one, injured two. Susan Bones, another first-year like me, killed the other one. A train conductor was killed by a curse meant for Harley.”

Miranda and Jake stood in the living-room, horrified. “So Harley was willing to sacrifice herself to protect you?”

Hermione nodded. Now her tears were flowing pretty freely. She wasn’t alone though. Even her father had tears in his eyes. Hermione ran into her father’s arms and hugged him. “I know you’d try to protect me, but Harley… can do things you can’t. She loves me too, just like you do” she said, trying to reassure him.

Hermione finally let go of her father and she was just turning to hug her mother when an enormous black dog wandered into the room. He had to be 165 or 170 pounds, if he was an ounce. Hermione’s wand was in her hand in a split-second and lit, with a glowing blue blade. 

“MOM! DAD! GET BACK. That’s no dog.” Hermione screamed as she put her back to them and circled around, holding her blade up and out, so that she could stab the animal if it approached at all. 

The house shook the next moment as Harley arrived in a clap of thunder, naked, save for panties and a t-shirt. She had her wand up and pointed out, also facing the animal. “That’s no dog” Harley said and she reached out with her magic, trying to cope with this unforeseen enemy. Her eyes began to glow green and Hermione could feel her pulling magic from all around her, focusing it, and getting ready to unleash Hell. 

Sirius almost peed himself. He saw the blades and knew what they had to be, but he had never seen one in real life. Only in the movies. He could feel the waves of magic gathering all around his God-daughter. She was sucking in magic, getting ready to… ? Send him Hell, he thought.

“Hermione! Harley! IT’S ALL RIGHT. HE’S OUR GUEST.” Miranda finally got out. 

The two girls relaxed, but neither extinguished her blade. Harley looked around. “Gonna have to do something with this” she said, as she looked towards the fireplace. 

She saw that it had charcoal in it.  _ Good. _ She thought. She reached out with all the magic she had gathered and closed her eyes. There was a light-show around her hands, which lasted for almost a minute. When it was finished, she opened her eyes. In her hand was a giant, round, yellow diamond. Flawless, faceted, and brilliant, Miranda gasped at it. 

“What were you burning in the fireplace?” Harley asked, as casually as you might ask about what’s for dinner. 

“Pine.”

“Oh, well, that might be the difference. I’ve never done this with pine as the fuel source. Only Oak. That makes white diamonds. Here” she said, as she tossed the diamond to Miranda.

Miranda looked at it. It was breathtaking. “Mine?” she asked.

“Yea?” Harley asked. “Problem?”

Jake looked at her. “You understand, right, that that diamond is probably worth between two and fifteen million pounds?”

Harley shrugged. “No, but it doesn’t matter. I can make a much larger one, if you want that instead. I have one right now that’s the size of a goose-egg. Don’t know what I’m going to do with that one.”

Now even Sirius was flabbergasted. He had seen plenty of gemstones in his day. The Black Vaults were littered with them, but he’d never, ever, ever seen one  _ made _ . And the reason for that is that it violated about three or four of Gamp’s Laws of Transfiguration.

“Sirius, please join us” Jake said, pointing to one of the chairs. “Girls, this is Sirius Orion Black. He’s an Animagus. Your mother Isabelle broke him out of Azkaban recently and he’s been staying here, recovering.”

Sirius regained his form as a man and looked at Harley. “Hello sweetie. I’m Sirius Black. I’m… well, I  _ was _ … your Godfather when you were a very little boy. And yes, I know all about your history. Isabelle and I talked for a long time. I’d like to be able to be your Godfather again, if you’d let me.”

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	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harley and Jake come to an understanding and grades arrive from Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pursuant to the Berne Convention Implementation Act of 1988 and the Digital Millennium Copyright Act of 1998, 17 U.S.C. §§ 512, 120 1–1 205, this work is copyrighted 2019 with all rights expressly reserved by its author unless explicitly granted. No portion may be reproduced in any fashion, or hosted on any website, without the express written and notarized permission of the author. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own rights to any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of Joanne K Rowling, © 2003, to whom I am deeply indebted. The Harry Potter series is property of Joanne K. Rowling, and Arthur A. Levine Books, Inc., a division of Scholastic Press, Inc., © 2003. I make no money from any of this. WHATEVER CREATIVE MATERIAL IS LEFT IS MINE.
> 
> CONTENT Disclaimer: This story may contain sexually graphic and explicit material and as such, it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now, as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. These stories are just that, stories, and do not promote or condone the activities described herein.

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**From Chapter X….**

Harley shrugged. “No, but it doesn’t matter. I can make a much larger one, if you want that instead. I have one right now that’s the size of a goose-egg. Don’t know what I’m going to do with that one.”

Now even Sirius was flabbergasted. He had seen plenty of gemstones in his day. The Black Vaults were littered with them, but he’d never, ever, ever seen one  _ made _ . And the reason for that is that it violated about three or four of Gamp’s Laws of Transfiguration.

“Sirius, please join us” Jake said, pointing to one of the chairs. “Girls, this is Sirius Orion Black. He’s an Animagus. Your mother Isabelle broke him out of Azkaban recently and he’s been staying here, recovering.”

Sirius regained his form as a man and looked at Harley. “Hello sweetie. I’m Sirius Black. I’m… well, I  _ was _ … your Godfather when you were a very little boy. And yes, I know all about your history. Isabelle and I talked for a long time. I’d like to be able to be your Godfather again, if you’d let me.”

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**12 Forest Lane, Colgate, UK – June 13, 1992 - late evening. **

It had taken a while to work out what Sirius would promise to Harley, since the circumstances had changed significantly since his last vow and a while after that to explain to Miranda and Jake what was going to happen and why. They had never seen or even thought of ritual magic and had lots and lots of questions. The afternoon burned away and night fell before they were ready.

Sirius, Hermione, and Harley began drawing the rune-circle, piece at a time, on the Granger’s garage’s cement floor. It was perfect what they needed to do. It was flat, clean, level, and could be carved into with the right tools. Miranda watched Hermione kneel at the 6 o’clock position and deftly cut her hand open and pour blood on the symbol in front of her. Miranda was sure that Hermione was going to need stitches to close her hand up, and was shocked when she saw Hermione’s hand, perfectly whole and healthy. While they watched Hermione, Sirius and Harley worked in the center, and noon positions and each used his or her own blood to activate the circle. It flared to life and pulsed with magic. 

When all the symbols were active and glowing with magic, both girls stood, exited the circle, stripped naked, and turned to have their hands meet in mirror image. Both Jake and Miranda watched as the two girls were bathed in fay blue light, which made them smile. When the magic dissipated, each girl was standing, looking refreshed and healthy. Neither seemed to be at all ashamed. Sirius then joined them. He too was naked. 

At the same moment, all three stepped into the circle and took positions that were pre-set: Sirius at the center, since he was the principal practitioner, Hermione at the 3pm, Harley at the 6pm position, and very surprisingly, Dobby at the 9pm position. Sirius lifted his wand and began chanting in a language that only Hermione and Harley recognized. Runes were lit in fire, all around him. With each new lit Rune, everyone in the circle could feel a pulse of magic. The chanting went on for a long time. Jake thought he heard patters in the chant, but he couldn’t be sure. 

When all of the Runes were shining above Sirius’ head, he said in Latin:

** _Harley Janel Ross, James natus est Harrius Potter est fides tua te promitto me Pater, Deus. Testor ego meam salutem tuo et magicae defensionem. Et iurare quia non tradent vos in verbo aut opere peccamus. Docere quod ego dico, ut adulto die stabo tibi confortare et parata elit. Sic me Deus adiuvet._ **

Jake and Miranda watched as a band of intense fey magic struck Harley; passing through and around her like an intelligent snake, before returning to Sirius and settling all about him. When the fey magic abated, Hermione, Harley, Sirius and Dobby all said together, “Lady Magic, your Circle is open and unbroken. We kneel in your light, now and forever.” Sirius dispelled each of the flaming Runes which hung in the air above him by slashing his wand through them. When he was done, he made one sweeping motion with his arm and closed the circle. 

Once Hermione and Harley stepped out of the circle, Jake looked at them; desperately trying to look them in the eyes and nowhere else. “Is it done?”

Harley nodded. “It’s done. Now, I’m taking Hermione to bed. I am exhausted and she is too. We need to sleep.”

Sirius looked at them, smiled, and then wandered off, as Padfoot, to find somewhere to sleep. Even Dobby looked tired. 

Very quickly, the house was quiet and Jake and Miranda were left with many of their questions unanswered. It felt to them like something very important had just happened, beyond the re-imposition of a Godfather’s oath, but they weren’t at all sure what that thing was. 

However, neither was in a position to demand an answer, because, as the saying went: “ ** _Negotiis immisceat nec draconum enim etiam bonis rebus et calamistratus_ ** _ .” – Do not interfere in the affairs of Dragons, for you too are crispy and good with ketchup. _

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

The next morning, Jake and Miranda thought that they were the first ones awake, but the wafting smell of baked cinnamon and brewed coffee said otherwise. As they struggled to dress, Miranda wondered again what had happened the night before and what it meant for their daughter. She thought back to the fact that neither girl seemed at all upset about being naked for a ritual, or being in the presence of an adult man, who was also naked. That seemed very odd to her, even though it had been explained twice and it still bothered her.

She also wondered what the girls were learning at Hogwarts and where Hermione had gotten the wicked-looking, black metal knife, which Hermione called an ‘Athame’. And for that matter, where had Harley gotten the one she had? Surely girls weren’t allowed to carry such weapons around with them?

Because it was Sunday during the summer, neither felt much inclined to attend services at the Parish of Colgate and Roffey, on Crawley Road in Colgate, where they usually attended. However, Miranda still felt a pull towards the church. Sometimes attending services there simply helped to calm her concerns about what was happening in Hermione’s life. The ceremony of worship allowed her to forget about other things for a while and focus on things that had bigger meaning that her small life. 

It was different for Hermione, of course. She didn’t need to attend church to have religious beliefs. One of the benefits of being magical was that there was  _ absolute, concrete _ certainty about life after death and about the existence of the soul and about the purity and existence of Jesus. Only the Death Eaters denied God and the Lady Magic. Hermione had told her all of that in her letters home, but it was a different thing altogether to stand and watch a magical ritual and feel the unspeakable power that was harnessed in the name of God and the Lady Magic.

If anyone had asked her, before Hermione was identified as a witch, if magic was compatible with Christian beliefs, she would have said it was heresy. But now? She knew that not only  _ wasn’t _ it heresy, but that the rock-solid devotion that magic wielders held towards God was beautiful. 

Miranda’s internal reverie was disturbed by a knock on their bedroom door. Jake, who was already completely dressed, answered it. Hermione was standing at the doorway, looking in. “Dad” she said, before hugging him fiercely. “Love you.”

“Love you too, squirt. Didn’t think you’d be up yet.”

“I’ve been up for almost an hour. Harley and I were really hungry after last night and so we got up and ate. Dobby’s made a whole rack of food. He even made cinnamon rolls!”

Hermione had never been a big sweets-eater, and chocolate had never been a thing for her, but she had a sincere weak spot for cinnamon rolls. “So are there any left or did you eat them all?” Jake teased. 

“You know, Dad, that you’d look pretty good as bullfrog. Want me to try it?”

“Ah… no. That would probably be a very, very bad idea.”

“I’ll have Sirius do it then. He’s been itching to do a human-to-animal transfiguration” she grinned and then flounced out of the room. 

Jake didn’t know if she was really serious or not, but he thought that being a bullfrog might not be very much fun. He decided that he’d ask Sirius after breakfast about what it was like to be able to become another animal. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Once breakfast was done and the six of them had had a chance to get some coffee, Jake cornered the girls and asked them for a private conversation. “Private conversations” had always meant, at least for Hermione, that she was in trouble for something and that Jake was tasked with being the ‘heavy’ and laying down the punishment for whatever she had done. 

This day though, it was a different conversation.

Once the girls had seated themselves in his study, Jake sat at his desk and asked them “the question”: “Have you two been intimate yet?”

Hermione looked at Harley, who looked at Jake in turn, and he could see it wasn’t a welcome question. Thirty seconds or more of silence ticked by before Harley said, “Why?”

Jake looked at her with something bordering on astonishment, or at least surprise. He hadn’t expected that response, which was a no-response, and one that put him on the defensive. 

Finally he said, “Because I’m Hermione’s father and it’s my right to know.”

Harley was prepared for that answer, since it was just a power-play. “So? I’m the Lady Ross, of the House of Ross. I am the Lady Potter, of the House Potter. I am first of the Twenty-Eight. I’m a Mage. And I am  _ Hermione’s wife _ . What we do isn’t any of your business.”

Jake looked at her, stunned at the venom in her response, and wondering if he hadn’t just bitten off far more than he could chew. 

Hermione watched her father flounder about for another couple of moments before she said, “Are we done here? Because I don’t think you’re going to want to push this point, Dad. I can’t make you stop, but Sirius can, and that little light show that you saw last night wasn’t just for the fun of it. Sirius swore himself to Harley’s protection. I can’t turn you into a bullfrog, but he most assuredly can. And he will if he feels that you’re antagonizing his god-daughter.”

Before Jake could say anything, Harley an d Hermione got up and walked out, leaving Jake gaping like a fish, wondering what just happened.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

An hour later, Miranda found Jake wandering in their garden, which was extensive. She could see that he was thinking about something and it clearly had him worked up. He was turning the corner to walk up another path when she caught his eye. 

“Hey. You’ve been out here for a while. What’s going on?”

He shrugged. “It’s the girls. After seeing them get naked so casually last night, I confronted them this morning and asked if they had been intimate together. They basically told me to fuck off. Hermione reminded me pointedly that the ritual we saw last night wasn’t just to show us magic, but had a real point to it. She told me that if I didn’t back off and mind my own business, that they’d have Sirius turn me into a frog.”

Miranda laughed, which made Jake scowl. “If you had asked me, I could have told you where they’re at, more or less. But no, you had to go play the big, bad, dad and ‘lay down the law’. You can’t do that with Hermione. 

First of all, even if she can’t hurt us, her friends can. Sirius can turn you into a frog or anything else, and I think he’d happily do it, if you threatened Harley. Now, I can tell you that they’ve  _ not _ been intimate, at least not the way you’re thinking, yet. Hermione’s going crazy. She’s horny and would love to seduce Harley, but Harley’s not ready yet. I frankly don’t think we have to worry about it at all, at least not for another year or more.” Miranda wasn’t going to tell him about the toy-box that she had given Hermione. There was no need to kick over that bee’s nest. Hermione and Harley were entitled to their privacy and Jake didn’t need to know. 

Jake seemed mollified by that, but was still sore about being told to mind his own business, and he said so. 

“Jake, I love you. You know that. You know that I respect you as a father and as a man… but please, don’t be stupid. For all of Hermione’s innocence, and her love for you, she loves Harley in a totally different way – and I can’t imagine what she could do if you pushed her.”

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Two weeks later…. Sunday, June 28** **th**

Hermione was on pins and needles as the dawn rose across the sky. She knew that grades were due at any time and she was expecting great things. Harley’s owl, Hedwig, would (probably) be delivering the school’s letters to them, but she wasn’t positive. That didn’t keep her from looking for a snowy white owl. 

A détente had settled into place between Harley and Jake. If he kept his mouth shut and left them alone, she wouldn’t arrange for Sirius to demonstrate magic on Jake, to Jake’s detriment. It wasn’t a perfect solution by any means, but it got the job done. Jake resented it, but understood on a fundamental level that it just wasn’t a level playing field and never would be. He didn’t have magic and had no way to defend against it, and that meant that he didn’t have a choice but to leave Harley and Hermione alone. 

Harley felt sad about having to do things the heavy-handed way, but she really didn’t see a way around it. She wasn’t going to tolerate Jake’s intrusion into her private life with Hermione. They certainly didn’t flaunt it by any means and the two of them actually dressed fairly modestly around Jake and Miranda, but that wasn’t going to keep Harley from kissing Hermione whenever she felt like it. 

Jake didn’t know that if he had kept pushing, Harley was planning on taking him into the woods and showing him what a powerful  _ Reducto _ could do to flesh, by demonstrating it on a squirrel. It was something that she hesitated to do, because she had already done it by herself and had been horrified by how little was left of the squirrel – not really much more than a red splatter on a tree. 

There were worse spells, of course, but Jake didn’t need to know that. Some of the curses that she and Hermione had found in the books that they had taken out of the Room of Lost Things felt like things you’d use during a ground war against thousands of troops. One that she didn’t dare try,  _ Inflamare  _ _ caelestis _ _ , _ was said to create a fire like that of the Heavens. It wasn’t that she couldn’t execute the spell correctly, but that she might not be able to control it or that she’d overpower it and create devastation like Hiroshima or Nagasaki. 

Another spell,  _ Ignis, _ was said to create a massive blob of liquid rock, which you could drop on things. That one was particularly terrifying, because even if there were a counter-curse, the reality was that if the blob hit you, you were dead. Nothing survived 3,700  °F molten rock. 

There were others that were just as awful, but for different reasons.  _ Vacuous _ created a vacuum that sucked out all of the O2 from an area, leaving only CO2 behind. It was a silent killer and particularly so, because it was undetectable in the first instance. Harley thought it was perfect for a Rune-based trap.

_ Venenatum Aerem  _ was a sick, insidious killer, because it created a creeping, moist Cyanide fog that the caster could direct. It was also almost invisible, unless you knew what you were looking for (and by that time, it was probably too late anyway). The book said that the fog tasted like bitter almonds, but by the time you realized that was what you were tasting, you were already dead, you just didn’t know it quite yet.

_ Aquae Ferveo _ was another terrible curse, because it super-heated the water in a person’s body all at once, causing him or her to explode; killing not just the person, but all of the people nearby, with supersonic pieces of bone fragment. 

The last one, the one that she and Hermione had sworn to each other never to discuss with anyone else, was the  _ Mortuis _ curse. The Forbidden Curse. Kill one, kill ten, a thousand, a million. It did not matter. So long as the group was bound together by a commonality – membership in a group, allegiance to a certain cause, or the wearing of a certain mark on one’s skin, the Curse would work. It would kill everyone in that group. Hermione and Harley were pretty sure that Dumbledore had used it to get to Grindelwald in WWII. 

Dumbledore had used it, they were sure, to kill everyone in the  _ Verfügungstruppen _ , Hitler’s private army, who were guarding the area just outside of Berlin where Grindelwald had his headquarters: more than 10,000 of them. For all of the ghosts that were created that day, the Germans called Dumbledore, “Geistermacher” – the “Ghost-maker”, and it wasn’t a compliment. The only thing was, no one else knew how he had done it. Somehow, Dumbledore had suppressed any knowledge of it. Hermione had figured it out only by reading one of the Fifteenth-century texts that they had found in the Room of Lost Things, via a translation spell. 

Because she was lost in thought, Hermione didn’t see or hear the big tawny owl land on the perch that her parents had set up for post-owls. 

It took a rolling, hooting call,  _ ooo-ooooooooooooooooo!  _ to get Hermione’s attention. Shame-faced, Hermione looked at the owl. “Oh! I’m sorry! I didn’t hear you or see you come in!”

The owl snapped its bill at her in annoyance and then held up its leg. Attached was a small square, with a signature **_H_** on it, indicating that it was mail from Hogwarts. Hermione squealed and reached for the letter, which the owl dutifully lifted its leg, so she could remove it. 

When she had it free, she gave the owl a treat, from the pile which was stacked on the counter. The owl hooted again, though more softly, and then, almost silently, flew out the door. She didn’t see it go though because she was too excited. Tapping the miniature envelope, Hermione said, “Lady Hermione Jane Dagworth-Granger”. Nothing happened. She looked at it, puzzled, and then did it again. And again. Finally, she looked at it and then at the ring on her left hand, and did it one more time. This time though, she said, “Lady Hermione Jane Dagworth-Ross”. It took a moment and the envelope shivered before it bloomed into a huge envelope, with her married name, along with Harley’s, which read, “Lady Harley Janel Ross”.

If Hermione felt any disappointment that the Lady Magic had decided that she had to take Harley’s last name, she didn’t show it. Tearing open the envelope, Hermione withdrew the two end-of-term reports and laid them out on the table. There was also a cover-letter that Hermione set aside. 

“Harley!” Hermione shouted, hoping that her wife – ‘ _ and wow, that was a word that was going to take some ‘getting-used-to’ _ , Hermione thought. 

Harley shimmered into place next to her, appearing as if out of nowhere. It was absolutely silent and Hermione looked at her in shock. “How… how did you do that?”

“Love you too” Harley said, smiling. 

“Prat” Hermione said, blushing. “But seriously? How did you do that?”

Harley smiled. “I got talking to Dobby and one thing led to another and he showed me something. I’ll show it to you later, k?”

“You better” Hermione said, pulling Harley close and kissing her. 

Harley lost herself in Hermione’s kiss. Hermione’s magic was so warm and made her feel so good that all she could do was close her eyes focus on the taste of Hermione’s lips and the scent of Hermione’s shampoo, which tickled her nose. When they broke apart, Harley took a deep breath and then said, “I love you so much, ‘Mione.”

“And you, always” Hermione said, leaning her forehead against Harley’s. “Grades come in?”

“Un-huh.” It was all Hermione could say. Her insides were still shuddering with the impact of feeling Harley’s magic all over her. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to it, and that was just fine. It felt so good that she never wanted to take it for granted. 

“Did I make my beautiful wife all jelly?” Harley whispered, teasingly. 

“Un-huh” Hermione said, trying to compose herself but failing, badly. 

Harley giggled, as only a teen girl can do and it made Hermione giggle too. 

After a couple of moments, Hermione felt Harley’s hands slide under the bottom of her shirt, caressing her lower back and her fingertips tracing the edge of Hermione’s silk panties as Harley pulled her close and nibbled on her ear. “I wish we had more privacy”.

Neither Hermione nor Harley had any idea that they were being watched by Padfoot from the corner of the kitchen, and that he was listening intently to their loving words for each other. 

_ “Lily and James would approve”  _ Sirius thought to himself as the two girls kissed once again. “ _ James wouldn’t have minded that Harry became Harley. At least she grew up Happy! Petunia was such a miserable shrew. Can’t imagine would Harley’s life would have been like if Albus had been able to leave her with them. Harry would have grown up, miserable and abused.” _

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

It must have been his breathing as a dog that gave him away, he thought. One moment, he was watching the two girls kiss and share affection, the next… he was pink all over and his tail was all decked out in ribbons. Worse, his bits were shaved and painted day-glow white, so that they stood out against the pink of his fur. His ears were adorned in sparkling jewelry, thought he couldn’t see them, and all of his toenails were polished to a mirror finish and bright pink.

The mirror in the Granger’s living-room gave testament to his doggy girliness and undying shame and the laughter from the two girls left him plotting a suitable revenge. 

“You look great as a girl, Sirius. A true pink princess! James would have been truly proud of you!” Harley said, in between bouts of laughter. Forgetting that it was his day off, Harley called out, “Dobby!”

_ !Pop!  _ “Yes mistress?”

“Dobby… can you arrange a picture of Sirius, so that my mother can see him?”

Dobby looked at Sirius, grinned evilly, and then popped away. When he came back, he had a wizarding camera in his hands. Sirius tried to get away, but found that he was well and truly stuck. By what magic, he didn’t know, but it was enough to make his shame complete. Pictures were taken. Selfies, even, despite Sirius’ doggy protestations.

Harley and Hermione both hugged Dobby fiercely and kissed the top of his head in thanks. “Awesome, Dobby” Hermione said, giggling again. “He’s never going to live this down.”

By the time that Dobby departed, Jake and Miranda were up and were able to witness Sirius’ shame. Jake, who was by turns, a cool, calm, and collected person day-to-day, couldn’t help but laugh himself sick at Sirius’ predicament. Only Miranda took any kind of pity on him and that was only a half-measure, since she used her new, super-expensive digital camera to capture Sirius’ humiliations  _ before _ encouraging Harley to dismiss whatever magic that she had used on the man. 

Once Harley had removed the charms she had used on Sirius, he was able to revert to his human form. He was torn between actually being angry at Harley for what she had done and admiring the hell out of her for her power and finesse in the way that she had applied her magic. Then he remembered that Lily had done something similar to him when she was at Hogwarts and he had to let his anger go.  _ So very much like her mother. Power, grace, incredible beauty, and love… yea, James would have approved _ he thought to himself. 

Since it was Sunday, Dobby had the day off, and wasn’t required to do meals or anything else, Miranda let herself into the kitchen to begin breakfast. She didn’t cook on Sundays, as a general rule, but it wasn’t every day that her daughter was home  _ and _ celebrating her grades from school.

She saw the documents on the counter and called out to Hermione. “Love? Have you opened your grades?”

Hermione, realizing that she hadn’t done so because she had gotten caught up in kissing her wife, came bustling in, along with Harley, Sirius, and Jake.

“Ok, daughter, let’s see how you did” Jake said. 

Hermione looked at Harley, who nodded and deferred to her. 

She first picked up the letter and started reading it aloud:

“To the Lady Hermione Jane Dagworth-Ross. Friday, June 26 th , 1992. Dear Lady Dagworth-Ross, on behalf of the Board of Governors, it is our pleasure to tell you that because of your outstanding academic achievement, you have been promoted to Third Year. Please see the enclosed shopping list that reflects your change in status. Based on your academic record and your anticipated work for the coming year, you will be eligible to sit the Ordinary Wizarding Levels in eighteen months – that is, at Semester break, January 1994. Congratulations on your exemplary work and achievement. Sincerely, Lord Lucius Malfoy, House of Malfoy, Chairman, Hogwarts Board of Governors.”

Hermione let out a massive squeal and grabbed Harley; pulling her close and kissing her deeply. Jake, Miranda, and Sirius watched as the two girls separated after the kiss and touched foreheads, losing themselves, momentarily, in each other’s presence. It really was quite endearing in many ways. Neither girl was at all self-conscience about their relationship or the affection that they shared. Miranda wondered just how many students at Hogwarts had seen the girls kiss and what they felt about it. 

Jake could tell that his daughter wanted a lot more of where the kisses had come from, but wasn’t willing to compromise herself in front of witnesses. He appreciated that. It was hard enough seeing Hermione grow up, but to know that she was gay and wonder if she’d ever have children made it a bit harder. He really did want grandchildren. Not that he’d ever push Hermione, or emotionally blackmail her, but it didn’t make it any easier to live with. The only upside was that they still had lots and lots of time to figure out what they were going to do.

Harley pulled out the letter to her and it was exactly the same: promotion to third-year at Hogwarts. That meant they’d be joining Katie Bell in her dorm. That would definitely make life interesting!

“What about your grades?” Jake asked. The three adults in the room seemed to be pins and needles.

Hermione picked up the grade sheets and handed Harley hers. “Read it out, love!”

Harley looked at her, as if to say, go ahead. Blushing, Hermione began to read hers out. “Ok, ok. Here we go: Potions – O plus! Transfiguration – O plus, with distinction! Care of Magical Creatures – O plus! With High Honors, DADA – Not applicable. History of Magic – O. Herbology – E plus/O Minus, Astronomy – O, Flying – O, Charms – O Plus! With Highest Honors”

Harley took Hermione in her arms again and kissed her, before whispering in her ear, “Awesome job, love. Let me see what I can do to  _ reward _ you tonight.”

The very thought of Harley ‘rewarding’ her made Hermione shiver all over. Harley’s hands were  _ very, very good _ and she had learned how to turn Hermione into a happy puddle of witch-goo. 

“Your turn, Sweetie” Sirius said to his god-daughter. 

Harley looked at Sirius and then at Hermione, before starting to read. “Potions – O plus! Transfiguration – O plus, with Highest Honors, Care of Magical Creatures – E plus/ O minus, DADA – Not applicable. History of Magic – E plus. Herbology – E, Astronomy – O, Flying – O plus, with Highest Honors, Charms – O Plus with Distinction!”

Sirius looked amazed and impressed, as did Hermione. Jake and Miranda looked happy, but not totally understanding. It took Sirius ten minutes to explain to them how stellar Harley and Hermione’s academic performances were. They didn’t understand that  _ Highest Honors _ meant that they were the highest scoring student in that discipline in all of Europe and that  _ With Distinction _ meant that that grade was the highest recorded at Hogwarts across all of the seven class-years. They also didn’t know that a score of O-plus meant that it was the highest grade in that class of 24 or thirty students. 

They weren’t alone, of course. Students elsewhere had received grades as well.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Malfoy Estate, Kielder Island, just north of Falstone, UK**

Draco Malfoy had been circling the island, at a height of about 500 ft. for most of the morning, waiting for the owl that would bring his school results. He knew he had done well and was excited to show his father that, as a student, Draco wasn’t failing him or the family name. 

Not that Lucius Malfoy could be unhappy about  _ anything _ right now. Between the tricks that Harley had showed him, the collection of brooms, his mother’s pregnancy… life was very, very good for the Malfoys. 

As he circled, he thought about how incredibly odd it was that he, a Slytherin, was so indebted to a Gryffindor – and a girl at that. In years past, it never would have happened, but there hadn’t been student like Harley Ross or Hermione Dagworth-Granger in centuries. The two girls were literally tearing up the record books. 

Draco thought back to what his father had said to him, the last time that they had had a chance to sit down and talk. “ _ Honestly, Draco? The truth is that sometimes it’s the smart thing just to find someone more powerful than you and learn from him or her. I thought that the Dark Lord was going to be that person, but… I was wrong. He was cruel… evil. He was never willing to share what he knew. Then comes along someone like your friend, Lady Ross. Not only did she show me that I was wrong, but she apologized! And then took the time to teach me how to make more money than your mother and I could ever use in a thousand lifetimes. I picked the wrong horse the last time, Draco. I won’t make that mistake again.” _

He had been taught that when he went to Hogwarts, he was going to have to dominate Slytherin house and cement social control over it. And then he met Harley and Hermione and realized that there was no way that he was going to be able to dominate anything – not with them in the school. Harley’s word had become… well, if not law, certainly a very, very powerful  _ suggestion. _

If she told you to jump, you jumped, and then maybe hoped for an explanation afterwards. Fortunately, she used her influence so rarely that the perception was of a queen, who ruled with a gentle hand, but one backed up by a sword. In this case, however, that was literally true. Draco had seen the damn fool Auror who had thought to draw his wand on her, only to lose the hand temporarily. Harley’s sword had moved so fast that no one in the Hall could have followed it. A simple flick and the man was screaming in agony, with a bloody stump where his hand had been.  _ Fucking moron,  _ Draco thought to himself.  _ Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus _ for sure. Don’t fucking annoy a dragon or  “ ** _Negotiis immisceat nec draconum enim etiam bonis rebus et calamistratus_ ** _ .” – Do not interfere in the affairs of Dragons, for you too are crispy and good with ketchup. _

The pisser of it was that Harley was singularly one of the most beautiful girls in all of British society and her domination of Hogwarts was unexpected in some ways. Her curly black-red hair and mind-bendingly green eyes were breathtaking. She moved like a panther when walking: Graceful, lean, powerful beyond description, and superbly confident. She was also incredibly gentle. She was often seen hugging someone, reassuring the person and whispering encouragement. Birthday presents from her came silently, in the middle of the night most times, and they came in every size and shape. 

One first-year girl, who was an orphan, suddenly found an adoptive home with a girl from Hufflepuff, along with a dowry of more than 50,000 Galleons. A boy from Slytherin – a 2 nd year student – who had been raised in a very poor, but pure-blood home, found a new chest at the end of his bed on his birthday morning. It was one of the special travel trunks, blood-locked to him only, with five complete rooms in it; an entire wardrobe of brand new clothes, a complete library for school, and an entire space to practice potions and magic safely. For Christmas, Harley and Hermione had gotten him a Nimbus 2001, signed by the entire British Quidditch team, along with a note inviting him to try-out at the end of his 6 th year. He was still trying to wrap his head around that.

For Hagrid, Hermione had renovated Hagrid’s hut, giving him three times the space inside, and a kitchen that truly fit a man his size. She had also replaced his wooden cross-bow with a brand new, state-of-the-art carbon-fibre compound cross-bow, capable of firing bolts at three times the speed of his previous weapon. It was magically reinforced by charms supplied by Filius Flitwick and the Headmaster himself. It would never break, never fail, and was useable only by Hagrid. 

Draco didn’t know of those gifts of course, since there was an unwritten but widely understood rule at Hogwarts that you didn’t talk about the gifts that showed up in the middle of the night. You might, tangentially, say a private word of thanks to the two girls, but you never, ever talked about their gifts to you in public. 

Irina Yaxley had learned that there was life in leaving Hermione and Harley alone. A dead,  _ giant _ arachnid was delivered to the end of her bed in the middle of the night, with a note attached that said, “ _ Last warning. Leave us alone _ .” It wasn’t a subtle warning, but it got the job done. She was so terrified that she immediately transferred to Durmstrang. 

The idea of a giant spider being deposited at the end of his bed in the middle of the night gave Draco fits. It was no wonder that Yaxley transferred out. Anywhere, just to get the fuck away from someone who thought that constituted a warning. More like… a nightmare. But he had to wonder, on the other hand, just what the girl had done to justify such a response. It had to have been something incredibly stupid. Harley ignored insults, for the most part, and accepted rebukes when deserved, so what had Yaxley done?  _ Probably threatened Hermione, somehow. That would do it.  _

One second-year boy had touched Hermione in a way that wasn’t appreciated in the library one afternoon, half-way through the Spring semester, while she was in the stacks looking for a book. Her scream had summoned Madam Pince, but Harley got there first. The Lady Ross had, apparently, told Madam Pince to go away, along with the admonishment that “she didn’t need to see this.”

Draco knew that whatever happened to the boy, it was a lesson that stuck with him, because he withdrew from Hogwarts the next day. He was inclined to believe that the scuttlebutt around the incident was, possibly, correct. The apocrypha said that Harley had, essentially, used her magic to terrify his magic. Draco thought that was well within her abilities. He had seen her eyes glow green with magical power and he knew that it was something he’d never, ever want to face. Especially if she were really angry, as he supposed she was, over someone taking physical liberties with Hermione. 

It had been an interesting year, altogether. While it was true that he’d never dominate Slytherin house the way that was originally planned, his abilities as a flyer, quidditch player, and student had combined to make him influential in the house. Further, the reported death of Higgs and Brunt further crippled the far-right faction in the house and make it much more plausible that the name of Malfoy would continue to rise. 

Draco didn’t know it, but with the gold that his father had found all over the country, the Malfoy fortunes had risen by a full twenty-five percent, year over year, and there was no end in sight. The growth in the family fortunes was really two-fold, since all of the gold that Lucius had obtained for the family was free of any taint, political or otherwise. It was freely-found gold that had been sitting for eons, just waiting for someone to come along and gather it in. It also promised enhanced interest revenue; something that delighted Lucius, since it was really money-for-nothing. 

A brown shadow passed below Draco and a big, wide smile etched itself on his face, as Draco recognized it for a Hogwarts owl. Leaning his weight to the side, Draco slipped into a dive that ate up 400 feet in more than a couple of heartbeats. He smoothed out and did a picture-perfect landing on the sun-porch. The owl was just folding its wings back as he did so. 

“Have something for me, beautiful?” Draco asked the owl. The owl hooted softly and lifted its right leg, to which was attached the small, brown square with the large  **H** on it. Once Draco had taken the miniaturized envelope from the owl, he tossed it a special owl-treat and disappeared inside. It was cool inside because of the charms and it took his eyes a couple of minutes to adjust to the relative darkness. 

Once his eyes had adjusted, he made his way to the kitchen. There was a Butterbeer in the cool-box and he knew it would taste great as he read his grades. Once had had sat down at the counter, he touched the envelope with the tip of his finger, and said, “Draco Lucius Malfoy, Scion of the House of Malfoy”. The square wiggled and then grew multiple times in size, before settling down as an 8 ½ x 11” envelope with his full name on it.

Using the Athame that he always carried with him, Draco opened the envelope and withdrew the two sheets that were inside. The first one was the letter from Hogwarts.

**Draco Lucius Malfoy**

**Scion, House of Malfoy**

**Kielder Island, UK**

**26 June 1992**

**Dear Scion Malfoy:**

**Congratulations on your outstanding academic and athletic performance this year. Your efforts earned you the standing of ** ** _Summa Cum Laude_ ** ** and, by a vote of the Board of Governors, promotion to Third Year. Your efforts were exemplary, both in your personal academic efforts and your outstanding contribution to the academic performance of students in your house and in your year. **

**Please find enclosed the newly modified shopping list for Third Year students as well as your grades. Again, congratulations.**

**Sincerely,**

**Lady Minerva Catherine McGonagall**

**1991 – 1992 Academic Year Final report for Malfoy, Draco Lucius.**

**Potions – O plus**

**Transfiguration – O**

**Care of Magical Creatures – O Plus, with Highest Honors***

**DADA – Not applicable. **

**History of Magic – O Minus**

**Herbology – O**

**Astronomy – O **

**Flying – O plus, with High Honors, **

**Charms – O Plus**

*** Grade awarded only because Professor had nothing above it to present. Student’s performance marked as “So exceptional as to set him in a completely different class. Only student’s age prevented automatic promotion to 6th year class in this discipline.”**

Draco sat back, stunned. Not only had he done  _ well _ , but he had crushed it. He couldn’t believe his CoMC grade. It was such an easy class and he loved it. Taking care of the Hippogriffs and Gryffins was as natural as breathing. He loved the Thestrals. He wasn’t the only student who could see them, but he seemed to be the one most taken with them. Anything that had wings, it seemed, he took to with a passion. Even the Unicorns, which seemed to just totally  _ love _ him. He didn’t know why, but they did. 

Gathering up the papers, Draco hopped off the barstool and went in search of his parents. It didn’t take long. They were in his father’s study, talking and going over the house-accounts. 

He knocked, as was courtesy, before entering. His parents looked up and saw the enormous smile on Draco’s face. 

“Good news, son?”

Draco laughed. “I think you could say that father, mother.”

He handed the two sheets over to his parents and stood, waiting for them to read them. It didn’t take long. Lucius’ eyes grew wide when going over his son’s grades. His mother started crying, but Draco could see that they were happy tears. It made Draco feel very good to see them so pleased. 

“These are… very impressive, Draco. So much so that I’m not sure what to say. You’ve obviously taken to your school work with a passion. Can I ask you about the DADA situation?”

Lucius knew that Dumbledore was having a very hard time finding a teacher to fill the role, but it was almost unconscionable to have gone an entire year without that position filled. It was one of the reasons that he was finding increasing fault with the man and siding with Minerva McGonagall more and more often. 

“Yes father, about that… I saw the teacher die at Harley’s hands, but we’re not sure exactly  _ why _ he died. It’s just that he took Harley’s hand and then immediately started turning to dust. He was dead before he hit the ground. Then something odd happened.”

Lucius had not heard Draco speak of the events surrounding the death of Quirinius Quirrell, and so he listened to his son attentively. “A black… specter? Ghost? Sprang up out of Quirrell’s body. It dove through Harley’s body and this black… gunk or something sprang out of the scar on her forehead and joined the specter. It yelled, “I HATE YOU” and then went out the window. It was really, really creepy.”

Lucius was silent… and he was scared. “Draco, could I see that memory?”

“Yes father. Of course.”

Lucius bade him stay where he was and he went off to his private potions lab, where he retrieved a special kind of vial and stopper. When he returned, he asked Draco to focus on the memory very intently and then touch his wand to his forehead. As Draco did so, a silvery, magic strand of memory followed the tip. Lucius captured the memory in the vial and then stoppered it. 

As memories degraded if not viewed immediately, Lucius got up and went over to a panel in the wall. After touching it with the tip of his own, new wand, the panel disappeared and a large, runes-covered bowl appeared. Lucius withdrew the bowl and placed it on his desk. “Have you ever seen a memory this way, Draco?”

“No father. That’s your Pensieve, but I’ve never gotten to see a memory that way. The Headmaster is said to have a Pensieve of his own, but he lets no one near it.”

It figured that Albus had a Pensieve. He horded knowledge like no other that Lucius knew. “Well, this will be an experience. Narcissa? Will you join us?”

Narcissa nodded. She wanted to see what her son had seen. Lucius poured the memory into the Pensieve and it swirled and spun, finally stabilizing. When it was ready, Lucius bade Draco and Narcissa to lean forward, until they were all touching the mystical surface of the memory. In an instant, they were pulled into it and disappeared from the room. Lucius had done it a hundred times, but it still caught him by surprise. When next they opened their eyes, they were standing in the hallway at Hogwarts, near the DADA room. 

They watched the memory unfold…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_ **Professor Quirinus Quirrell stood by the door, shaking everyone’s hands as they walked in. Hermione and Harley were at the end of the line, taking their time and talking quietly. As he was wont to do, Quirinius welcomed Hermione. “Such a…a… pleasure, Ms. Granger!”** _

** _Harley extended her hand, when it was her turn. “Good afternoon, professor.” _ **

** _The moment that their hands met… Quirinius screamed._ **

** _“MASTER! HELP ME!” _ **

** _Harley watched in morbid fascination as the professor who had just greeted her staggered once, twice, and then fell completely to dust right in front of her. There was a huge, black cloud that came up out of her and screamed as well. “I HATE YOU!”_ **

** _The cloud dove at her head and Harley didn’t have time to move out of the way. It smashed into her, and through her. Harley screamed and the scar on her forehead burst open and a black tar oozed out of it and joined the black cloud. _ **

** _Hermione screamed as well, “GET A TEACHER, SOMEONE!”_ **

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the memory ended and the three had returned to Lucius’ study, he was very pale. He looked at Draco and said, “Draco, I need you to swear on your magic that you will not talk to anyone about this outside of the three of us. Can you do that?”

Draco looked at him, concerned and puzzled. “I can’t explain right now, Draco, what you’ve just seen, other than to say that it’s very, very bad and that there could be significant problems for our family if anyone learned of your knowledge of this. Do you understand?”

Draco nodded. He took out his wand, looked at his parents and said, “I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, swear on my magic and my life that I will never discuss, with anyone outside of the three of us, the memory that we have just watched, nor will I say anything to anyone about having made this vow. So I say, so mote it be.”

Draco put down his wand and looked at his parents, grinning.  _ Lumos!  _ He thought to himself. It was more a willed kind of thing and less a thought, but it worked. A ball of light appeared in his hand. Narcissa looked at him, utterly amazed. “Did you learn wandless magic in school too?” she asked, flabbergasted. 

“Yes, mother! Harley and Hermione taught us all how to do it. It’s a matter of will and focus. If you can see the result, you can make it happen. It’s all about visualization and will-power.”

“You’re saying that the two girls taught you wandless, silent casting? As first-year students?”

Lucius intervened. “Narcissa, love, Harley and Hermione aren’t normal. They’re not even abnormal. They’re so far away from normal as to be inexpressible. That little trick that Draco taught me with the Galleon? The girls taught him how to do that.”

Narcissa looked at her two men. “I think I need some extended time with these two ladies.”

“Oh!”

“What is it, Draco?”

“Oh, mother! I have something for you! I completely forgot!” And with that, he ran off to his room, where his school truck lay. In a couple of minutes, he came back with a black-velour wrapped box. He handed it to his mother. “This was an end-of-school gift from Harley and Hermione. They were giving out gifts to all of the first-year students and they made this for you, because they didn’t know what to get me, after they gave me that broom…”

Narcissa undid the clasp that held the box closed and opened it. Then she sucked in a breath and started to cry. If Draco hadn’t been there, she might have dropped it. Lucius looked at the box, turning it so that he could see the gift, and he blew out a breath. “That’s… that’s some gift, Draco.”

“I was told to tell you to read the note.”

Lucius put the box down and extracted the small card that came with it. 

**To: Lord and Lady Lucius Malfoy**

**From: Ragnok the Fifth, Lord of Gringotts**

**My Lord Malfoy, **

** The enclosed necklace is a work of Gringotts’ finest craftsmen. It has been**

**Purchased for all eternity and is entailed to your estate. **

**Sincerely,**

**Ragnok**

Lucius sat back, hard. He looked at the 6-pointed brilliant, perfect white diamond star which dangled from the twisted Mithril necklace. He tried to put a price on it and found that he couldn’t. Whatever it cost, it was mind-twisting. It had been liberated from Gringotts by agreement with Ragnok, which was so unusual as to not be describable. Goblin-wrought art  _ always _ returned to Gringotts at the end of the recipient’s life, unless purchased, like this one had, and entailed to one’s estate. 

The very fact that she would be able to wear it and then pass it down would make Narcissa the singular envy of the British magical world. She’d grace the cover of every women’s magazine and would outshine all other women at the Ministry’s annual Yule Ball. 

Lucius contemplated what he would be obliged to do for the two girls in response and was at a complete loss. How did one say ‘thank you’ for such a mind-twistingly valuable as well as breathtakingly beautiful gift? 

“Draco? Can ask you a question about the girls?”

“Yes father, of course. What do you want to know?”

“What do the girls really want? What are they looking for?”

“Oh, well that’s easy. Friendship and acceptance. I’ve heard Hemione say that a half-dozen times. She just wants to be able to love Harley and not have people talking about her or them like they’re evil or some kind of… some kind of pariah or something.”

Narcissa reached out to Lucius and squeezed his hand. “I think Draco really does mean it, Lucius. And from what I saw of Hermione, he’s speaking the truth. They don’t need money or magic or anything else. I think that they just want to be loved and accepted, just like he said. Remember, they’re only… what? 12? 13? I don’t think they’ve seen very much of the world and I get the feeling that both girls have lived sheltered lives. When I was twelve, all I cared about not looking like a fool in front of my friends – that I didn’t have the right clothes, etc. and whether my hair was done up right.”

Lucius looked at her and remembered the pictures of Narcissa at twelve and couldn’t not agree with her assessment. “So, what do I do with this? How do I respond?”

“You don’t. You let me write the letter and we’ll have the girls to the house for lunch and Draco can take them flying. We’ll let them know how much we appreciate what they’ve done for us and if a time comes when they really do need our help, we’ll be there for them.”

Not knowing what else to do, Lucius acquiesced to his wife’s suggestion. 

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**Early Tuesday morning, Loc Molson, Quebec, just off 325e Ave., on the eastern shore of Lac Molson, July 2, 1992**

Isabelle Ross lay back in her bed and closed her eyes. She didn’t have an ‘I’ll-do-anything-to-get-laid’ kind of sex drive (usually), but she was just barely 31 and there were times when her base needs overrode everything. This was one of those mornings. She couldn’t keep her hands out of her cotton panties or her fingers out of her pussy. It wasn’t perfect, but it certainly did take the edge off. 

This morning, as it had been since she met him, the focus of her need was the bad-boy she had sprung from Azkaban, Sirius Black. There was just something  _ magnetic _ about him. He was smart, curious, magically powerful, and  _ nice. _ The time that they had had together in the boat, as the sailed from where she had rescued him to the harbor in Torshavn, was one of the best times she had ever spent with someone. Sirius was funny, though his humor tended towards the dirty end of things, and he was engaging. He had asked endless questions about her and about Harley. She didn’t mind his tattoos, though a couple of them piqued her curiosity, and she definitely didn’t mind his lean build, chestnut-brown hair, and dark grey eyes. She didn’t even mind Padfoot. After all, a dog’s tongue offered such  _ interesting _ possibilities. 

As Isabelle drew closer to cumming, she thought about riding Sirius and hoping that his bits would meet the challenge. When she came, she called out Sirius’ name… a first for her really, and settle back into the bed, boneless and feeling particularly satisfied. 

An hour later, she woke again and realized that she was definitely going to need to take a shower and change clothes. Her panties were soaked with her pleasure.

As she got up, she looked in the mirror. She hadn’t changed, hardly at all, since she was seventeen or eighteen. At close to 5’8”, she was considered tall for a witch. Her dramatic red hair, curly and reaching down to the middle of her shoulder-blades, was like her daughters’, only not as spectacular. However, her radioactive blue eyes, petit nose and mouth, as well as her full, prominent breasts made her quite a looker. 

Naked, she plodded to the kitchen and turned on the coffee-pot, which she had primed the night before. Now all she had to do was wait for the five magical beeps, signaling that the coffee was brewed. She poured milk into the bottom of her 32oz mug – some 5 oz. of it, and a full teaspoon of sugar- for unlike non-magicals, witches actually needed a fair bit of sugar for the calorie-value, since they tended to burn quite a bit every day, casting magic and just  _ living. _

Isabelle realized, while she was standing in the kitchen, that she was still very definitely horny and that the thought of bending over the counter and getting taken from behind had more than a little appeal to it. There was no doubt that Sirius was strong. He’d have to have been, to survive the 2 kilometer swim that he endured in the freezing waters of the north Atlantic, and she knew he was lean, since she had seen him without clothes on the boat, before they pulled into the harbor. He was also hung like a bull… 

_ What the hell am I going to do with this? If he walked in here right now… _ she thought. A voice answered her, from that same place, “ _ You’d beg him to fuck you until you were cross-eyed, that’s what you’d do.”  _ It was true and she couldn’t deny it. What she really,  _ really _ wanted was to get DP’d. A cock in her pussy and a cock in her ass… was  _ heaven.  _ She hadn’t gotten fucked that way in years, but she missed it. A lot. The last time, it was a pair of twins – just fresh out of college – whom she seduced one afternoon at the ice-cream place that Harley used to frequent with her friends. It had been terribly daring of her and probably more than a little scandalous, but she had loved it. The two young men had fucked her to exhaustion, and she treasured the memory of it. 

The coffee pot finally made its welcomed five beeps, and Isabelle withdrew the carafe from the machine. The scent of the coffee as she poured it was one of the sweetest, most wonderful things on Earth. When she replaced the carafe, she picked up her huge mug and walked towards the bathroom. She knew, though Harley didn’t, that one of the scrub-brushes that she used on her back could also be transfigured into other things, that were much more pleasurable. 

An hour later, Isabelle was walking somewhat bow-legged, but she felt ever so much better. The scrub-brush had become a two-headed dildo that she animated to fuck the hell out of her while she luxuriated in the almost -steaming water and it had done its job admirably. 

_ Much better… _ Isabelle thought to herself as she finished her first mug of coffee. Her bits were feeling well-loved, which was something she hadn’t experienced in a long time.  _ Time to get dressed _ she thought, so she went off to do just that. Unfortunately, the Snowy owl that Isabelle had come to know flew in through the magic window that Isabelle had installed for just that purpose. Owls were so quiet that the rustle of their feathers was all that you usually ever heard from them. Still naked, Isabelle turned toward the owl. “Hedwig! What are you doing here?”

Hedwig looked at her and then hooted, which sounded like, “Whooooo Whooooo”.

“Ok, so… you’ve got something for me?”

Hedwig bobbed her head and then lifted her left leg. Hedwig was left-winged, just like her mistress, and Isabelle thought it was hysterical. “Ok, so... what? Bacon first?”

Hedwig snapped her bill several times, as if to say YES! 

Isabelle summoned the cooked bacon from the cold-box that she kept ready, for just such situations. While Hedwig chowed down, Isabelle gently took the note that was attached to Hedwig’s left leg and sat down to authenticate and then read it. 

Once she had confirmed that it was, in fact, from Harley, she laid it out on the counter and began reading.

**28 June 1992**

Dearest Mom –

I love you. I miss you and can’t wait to be home. We’ll see you sometime on July 24 th – that’s a Friday. I have tickets into Quebec City from London. Hermione and I will Apparate from there. At least… that’s what I think we’re doing. I’m not positive. I’ve been told that Apparition feels different than what I’ve learned to do. I was talking to Dobby and that led to me trying something that I don’t think anyone else had considered. It worked, so I showed it to Hermione. She picked it up quickly and now it’s what we use to get around. I can go to London without even thinking about it. I suspect that we could go to Russia if we wanted to do so. Anyway – I’ve sent along my grades. I thought you’d want to see them. Did pretty well.

Love you!!

Harley

Isabelle smiled as she read Hermione’s short letter. She had always expected that Harley would learn things that she didn’t expect while she was at Hogwarts. There was only so much that Isabelle could teach her before she came up on her own, personal limits. 

Taking out the second letter, she gasped. It was clear that Harley had pretty much torn it up at Hogwarts and was arcing the curve to the right, significantly. 

**1991 – 1992 Academic Year Final report for Ross, Harley Janel**

**Potions – O plus **

**Transfiguration – O plus, with Highest Honors, **

**Care of Magical Creatures – E plus / O minus, **

**DADA – Not applicable. **

**History of Magic – E plus. **

**Herbology – E, **

**Astronomy – O**

**Flying – O plus, with Highest Honors**

**Charms – O Plus with Distinction**

**26 June 1992**

**Dear Lady Ross:**

** Congratulations on your outstanding academic and athletic performance this year. Your efforts earned you the standing of ** ** _Magna Cum Laude_ ** ** and, by vote of the Board of Governors, promotion to Third Year. Your efforts were exemplary, both in your personal academic efforts and your outstanding contribution to the academic performance of students in your house and in your year. ** **Based on your academic record and your anticipated work for the coming year, you will be eligible to sit the Ordinary Wizarding Levels in eighteen months – that is, at Semester break, January 1994.**

** Please find enclosed the newly modified shopping list for Third Year students as well as your grades. Again, congratulations.**

**Sincerely,**

**Lady Minerva Catherine McGonagall**

**Deputy Headmistress, **

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry**

Isabelle sat back to think about what she had just read. It was clear that Harley had just stomped all over her schooling.  _ With Highest Honors _ meant that she was the single-highest scoring student in all of Europe. That was pretty god-damned impressive. But to be promoted to third year? That had never happened, as far as she knew. And to sit the OWL’s for December 1994? Amazing. 

Wandering off to get dressed, Isabelle thought about what it would be like to share a house with someone. She had lived so long without adult companionship that she didn’t know if, (a) she’d be a good girlfriend for someone, since she had absolutely no idea how to do that, and no experience in relationships, and (b) whether she was smart enough and good enough to be attractive to someone like Sirius Black who was, in point of fact, Lord Black – even if he had never chosen to pick up that mantle. 

It was not a new set of feelings for her. She had had her personal doubts about her worth as a woman for as long as she had been an adult. Even if she had been Lord Ragnok’s personal Hand… did that give her worth? Yes, she was beautiful, but there were a lot of witches who were and are even prettier, and looks didn’t last forever. Isabelle thought back to her parents and to what they had gone through, before being killed by Death Eaters. Her mother had found her worth in teaching, while her father had found his in serving Ragnok, before he come to power in London. She had grown up speaking Ge’Rent in the house, along with English and French. 

_ So what do I have to do to find my own worth? _ She thought to herself. It was a question that she had never really thought about before. She had been so focused on being Harley’s mother that all other things got crowded out. Now that Harley was off at Hogwarts, she had nine months each year to do something other than being MOM. 

Isabelle wandered into her bedroom to find clothes for the day. She was grateful, every single day, that the evil contraption called a ‘bra’ was not needed by witches, since support-charms took care of those kinds of considerations nicely. Picking out a pair of pink cotton, G-string panties, Isabelle slipped them on. They looked great on her, since she was so incredibly slim and her ass was so tight and high.  _ That’s what you get for running every day!  _ She thought happily, as she looked at herself in the mirror. Finally, she put on a pair of slinky pink shorts, made of Acromantula silk, and a white silk crop-top than ended just below her breasts. It was scandalous, since she didn’t have on a bra and her nipples were obvious… but that was the point. 

_ I’ll have to ask Sirius to come to the house for August. He can help me train the girls and he can train me,  _ she mused to herself as she got ready to go out. The more she thought about it, the more the idea appealed. 

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**10 July 1992 - Meeting of the Board of Governors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, Eilean Donan Castle, Inverness, Scotland**

Lucius Malfoy was in his element. He loved wielding power, especially in areas where he could step on some of those who really annoyed him. Recently, that list had grown to include not just Albus Dumbledore, but Arthur Weasley (and not because Arthur was, by himself, offensive, but because his wife was a total fucking Harpy). There were others on the list, but they weren’t present at this meeting. That was fine. It was never a good idea to take on too many opponents all at once. Dumbledore was formidable enough. He didn’t want to have to confront someone like Augusta Longbottom or Amelia Bones. Those women had real, rock-solid power and influence, as well as money and friends. Well… friends might have been a stretch where Augusta was concerned. People liked her the way they liked the Plague, but they did respect her and they did listen to her. 

Minerva McGonagall was present, as was Albus. Present as well were his supporters, Madame Zabini and Lord Montague. Lord Capulet had cycled off the board, as his term was up. Malfoy didn’t mind that, since keeping those two from each other’s throats was almost a full-time job. 

There were two openings on the Board and he was hoping to have Lord Malcom Parkinson, or his wife, Gruoch serve in one of them. The other… well, he didn’t really have a good candidate. There were people he  _ didn’t _ want to see, but most of them were unlikely, for a variety of reasons. The only person he really wanted to keep out of the position was Ted Tonks, as the two of them had hated each other for years. 

One of the best things so far was the astonished, collective gasp that he had earned when he silently and wandlessly banished his coat to the rack and summoned a chair with not even so much as a wave of his hand. Silent, wandless magic was the acknowledged provenance of Mages. “Everyone” knew that to be true. It was so funny that he had a hard time keeping in his reaction to their reaction. 

Albus, of course, knew the truth. So did Minerva. She had seen Harley Ross and Hermione Dagworth-Granger do the same thing day after day in class. By the end of the year, all of the students were doing it, just to annoy her. Even Draco had done so, but he did it with a flourish and a grin. But that wasn’t the only thing. It was wandless conjuration that  _ really _ pissed her off – and it was exactly that which the girls did,  _ every single time _ they had the chance. 

When the meeting was finally called to order, Lucius sat down. He whispered, quietly, and an elf popped of nowhere. Two more whispered words and the elf disappeared. A minute later, the elf returned. Placed a drink by his place, along with a writing pad and Phoenix writing quill. It was one of his guilty pleasures and splurges. It had cost him 5000 galleons, but it was worth every Knut to see Albus’ shocked reaction to it.

“We now call to order the Two thousandth, two hundred and Twenty-Third meeting of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry’s Board of Governors. Present are the following Governors: Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, Lord Lucius Malfoy, of House Malfoy, Lady Augusta Longbottom, Lady Pro tem of House Longbottom, Madame Zabini of the Minor House of Zabini, and Lord Montague. There are three openings on the Board. Nominations for new members are due by the close of this meeting, to be voted on at our next meeting in August.”

The Moderator, Randolph Keitch, Jr., son of the famous spell creator, Randolph Keitch, from the Comet Trading Company of Bristol, England, looked around before continuing, “Today’s agenda has three items: First: Solicit names for currently vacant board positions. Second: Approve the minutes from the last meeting and vote on the proposed changes for the upcoming school year, as proposed by Minerva McGonagall, and third: propose a response to the demand letter received by the Minister for Magic regarding the open position of DADA professor, which has gone unfulfilled since September of last year.”

Lucius lit the tip of his wand, by tapping on it with his fingertip, signaling that he wished to speak. Since time was on his side, he was willing to wait to be recognized – but he didn’t have to, since the Moderator seemed to want to move the meeting along. “Lord Malfoy, you are recognized to speak. Thank you for waiting.”

“Moderator Keitch, thank you for giving me the time to speak. I really appreciate it. I wish to make two motions, that may, perhaps, speed this meeting along. First, I move that we consider the meetings from the last meeting as read, and we vote to accept them. Second, we vote to open discussion on Minerva’s proposed changes to the Hogwarts curriculum for the upcoming year. Thank you.”

“Very good, Lord Malfoy. Thank you. Do we have seconds for either or both of Lord Malfoy’s motions?”

Augusta Longbottom raised her wand and said, “Seconded for both, Mr. Keitch.”

“Very good. We have a motion, and a second for both. Discussion?”

He looked around. He wanted to be fair, whether it served a purpose or not. “Seeing no motions for discussion, all in favor of the two motions?”

Everyone raised his or her hand. 

“All opposed? Seeing no votes in opposition, I declare the motions passed. We are now then in discussion about the changes to the Hogwarts curriculum. Lady McGonagall, would you read your list of proposed changes?”

Looking pleased, Minerva began reading. Her changes took up three full pages. Lucius looked at Madame Zabini and smiled when she rolled her eyes. Most of what Minerva had proposed to change were, in fact, legitimately in need of change. However, some of the things, like doing away entirely with the Hogwarts Uniform, were never going to pass with the current board. Too many people had entrenched ideas about what the school should look like and how the students should dress. 

It surprised him that the promotion,  _ en masse, _ of the entire first year of students (class of 1991) to the third year curriculum, passed without question. He thought there was going to be at least one vote against or abstention, but there wasn’t. The other change that passed, which surprised him, was Minerva’s proposal to give married quarters, if desired, to anyone in a marital relationship. That affected only one couple that he knew of. He wondered why Minerva was doing it and decided that he would have to pigeon-hole Madame Zabini and the Lady Longbottom afterwards, despite how much he detested the idea of doing so. 

The meeting dragged on for more than another hour, which – all things considered – was fairly short. But, it still taxed his patience significantly and he looked forward to getting on with talking to the right people. He owed the girls, despite what Narcissa said, and Malfoys  _ always _ paid their debts.

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	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pursuant to the Berne Convention Implementation Act of 1988 and the Digital Millennium Copyright Act of 1998, 17 U.S.C. §§ 512, 120 1–1 205, this work is copyrighted 2019 with all rights expressly reserved by its author unless explicitly granted. No portion may be reproduced in any fashion, or hosted on any website, without the express written and notarized permission of the author. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own rights to any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of Joanne K Rowling, © 2003, to whom I am deeply indebted. The Harry Potter series is property of Joanne K. Rowling, and Arthur A. Levine Books, Inc., a division of Scholastic Press, Inc., © 2003. I make no money from any of this. WHATEVER CREATIVE MATERIAL IS LEFT IS MINE.
> 
> CONTENT Disclaimer: This story may contain sexually graphic and explicit material and as such, it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now, as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. If you are offended by sexually explicit stories, please read no further. These stories are just that, stories, and do not promote or condone the activities described herein.

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**From Chapter XI….**

It surprised him that the promotion,  _ en masse, _ of the entire first year of students (class of 1991) to the third year curriculum, passed without question. He thought there was going to be at least one vote against or abstention, but there wasn’t. The other change that passed, which surprised him, was Minerva’s proposal to give married quarters, if desired, to anyone in a marital relationship. That affected only one couple that he knew of. He wondered why Minerva was doing it and decided that he would have to pigeon-hole Madame Zabini and the Lady Longbottom afterwards, despite how much he detested the idea of doing so. 

The meeting dragged on for more than another hour, which – all things considered – was fairly short. But, it still taxed his patience significantly and he looked forward to getting on with talking to the right people. He owed the girls, despite what Narcissa said, and Malfoys  _ always _ paid their debts.

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**Amelia Bone’s Office – DMLE/London, UK – Monday, July 13, 1992**

“… and get me the folder about Sirus Black from the Department of Regulated Inheritances. We’re going to need that as well.”

It had been an exhausting six weeks since she had received notice of Sirius’ escape. At every turn she was having to predict that Werner Klemperer was going to do next to lock down Azkaban Fortress, since she had counted on there being at least one weakness in the Fortress that she could push back onto someone else’s lap and scuttle the warrant. It hadn’t yet gone out, for the very reason that she was looking for a way to find a reason not to do so. One of them was obvious – Sirius had never received a trial, therefore shouldn’t been held in Azkaban. The weakness in that plan was that it meant she’d have to bring him in and she had no idea where he was. There were lots of countries where he could have sought refuge that would happy thumb their noses at magical Great Britain and there was nothing she could do about it. The current Minister for Magic was a fucking idiot and that was putting it mildly. He was the reason that so very many European nations hated the English. Well…. That plus arrogance, insular thinking, a tendency to want to colonize.

It wasn’t, of course, the only problem that she had on her plate. The other one happened on June 13 th . It had rattled all levels of government. Everyone had heard it. People in Russia heard it and in Zaire, and South Africa, and in the US, Canada, Mexico, Brazil and anywhere else you could name. Muggle papers everywhere had run some version of the banner headline,  _ “WHO IS HERMIONE?” _

Unfortunately, there wasn’t a lot that Amelia could do about this one. She knew exactly who the Hermione in question was. Only one person on the planet had the power to amplify her thoughts such that they’d be broadcast around the world and that was Harley Ross. Therefore, the Hermione she was reaching out to was her wife. 

She had personally briefed the Minister for Magic, The Muggle Home Secretary, the English Prime Minister, the President of MCUSA, the IWC, and the Secretary General of the UN about the incident and explained to all of them that the incident in question happened because of an attempt of the girls’ lives not a half-hour before. The President of MCUSA wanted to arrest the girls, but was quickly kyboshed by the head of the IWC, who explained that Mages, and Arch-mages existed in their own world, with their own set of rules. He also explained that trying to punish Harley would very likely lead to war with Hermione, and that would not end well, he explained, for any of them. 

When the President of MCUSA scoffed at that, he looked at her and said, “Madame President, I’m not sure you understand. Hermione could pull a meteor out of orbit and drop it right on your building in New York. And if that didn’t kill all of you, she’d pull more, until she was satisfied that there was nothing but rubble to bounce around. I’m also fairly certain that she could walk into this room, through Amelia’s ‘security’ and kill us all without even thinking about it. How painful our deaths would be would be directly proportional to how angry she is.”

“That’s just BS” the woman said. “No 12 year old is that powerful.”

“Amelia. I’m sorry. She’s an idiot.” The head of the IWC said, rubbing the bridge of his nose in tiredness. 

Amelia smiled. Maybe there was a way of getting rid of the obnoxious woman. “Fine. Don’t believe us? You want to duel her? You have a will, right? And someone has your power of Attorney?”

The woman looked at Amelia and realized that she wasn’t kidding. The president of MCUSA hesitated. “Well, yes… but I’ve never dueled against a Mage before.”

“We know. And you’ll never get to do so again. Hermione will kill you in a couple of seconds and that will be the end of it.”

Amelia was having fun, goading the arrogant, egotistical woman. The head of the IWC grinned. He knew what was happening, as did the other people in the room. They were all waiting to see if the woman was foolish enough to take the bait. 

Finally the woman looked at Amelia’s eyes and realized just how much the woman wanted her dead. “If it’s all the same, I’ll pass.”

“So, you do have to brain cells to rub together to keep warm with at night. That’s nice to see.” The head of the IWC said. 

That earned considerable laughter from the other people in the room, shaming the President of MCUSA. She even got up to leave, since it was obvious that they were having fun at her expense. 

“So, are we done here? And are we all in agreement with that we’re going to tell the papers?”

That bit of skullduggery had been crafted by one of the most creative people in the Obliviator Squad… and the really satisfying part of it was that it had enough grains of truth in it to make it believable. She was really looking forward to spinning that yarn to the reporters who had high enough security clearances to be briefed.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Two weeks later…**

Amelia picked up the  ** _Times of London_ ** on her way into work and looked at the front page. It had the huge banner “HERMIONE FOUND”.

Walking past the entrance for the Ministry, Amelia made her way down to a local coffee shop, the Costa Coffee, ordered for herself an enormous coffee, and then went to sit down and read the article. 

**“HERMIONE FOUND”**

** By Tim Shipman**

In a stunning reveal two weeks ago, Downing Street made public, to a select number of individuals, the existence of something that had been speculated about but never confirmed until now. The  ** _Times of London_ ** has spent the last two weeks trying to check and cross-check this information. We have one and only one point of confirmation, but we are satisfied with its veracity. This is what Downing Street has said:

“It has long been known that the human mind is still largely unknown, both in its development and capacity. However, government research has confirmed the existence of phenomenon that cannot be explained in ordinary terms. The British Government has known for years that a very select few individuals, less than one out of five billion, have the capacity to do things that very much look like magic or mental arts. Included in  this  list are phenomenon like ESP – Extra Sensory perception, Future prediction, mental projection, and mind-reading. 

However, there exists one individual, a young girl, who has the capacity to make herself heard. The demonstration of her power, which is several orders of magnitude greater than any similar talent seen before, was the one who called out for ‘Hermione’. Her talent is a matter of national security and is therefore not subject to further discussion or disclosure. However, the British public can be assured that the circumstances that led to this manifestation of talent are very, very unlikely to occur again.”

This reported attempted to follow up on this young girl but was rebuffed, under the National Secrets Act. Everyone remembers where he or she was when they heard the desperate cry for “ _ Hermione!” _ and the feelings that went with it. Write to us and tell us where you were when you heard it. How has it affected you? Are you doing anything different because of it? The  ** _Times of London_ ** will feature a special section, next Sunday, with your letters and recollections. 

** _Flashback 10 days – Thursday, July 17, 1992_ **

Tim Shipman was used to receiving strange letters. That came with the territory. Some where threats, others were questions, and a very, very few were unsolicited pieces of government information that were classified. He always took those “upstairs”, so that his bosses could have a look-see and make the decisions about what should be done next. 

This one though, was the oddest of all. First, it was a scroll of linen parchment, and the writing appeared to be by hand, with a quill and not with a pen. It said, “Guy’s Hospital Tower wing, 1 st floor, 1pm. Come alone.”

He looked at it and, given what he had just learned from Downing Street, was inclined to believe more than he might have at one time. So, at 12:45, he made his way to the 1 st floor entrance of Guy’s Hospital – tower wing. At precisely 1pm, a finger tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and looked at a woman, wearing a Monocle, and an A-line dress, in gray-blue, cinched at the waist. 

“Tim Shipman?” He nodded. “Good. Follow me and don’t say anything. Your life depends on it.”

That definitely caught him off-guard. “What do you mean?”

Amelia turned at looked at him and said, “If anyone knew that I’m about to show you what I’m about to show you, your life is forfeit. So keep your god-damned mouth shut and follow me.”

He nodded again and fell in step behind her. They went out the side entrance of the building and towards Charing Cross Road, only they didn’t go nearly as far as the Diagon Alley Entrance. Rather, they went in through the back door of the DMLE, which happened to be a police call-box... but a call box he could see only when she reached out to touch it and draw him in. 

The shit really hit the fan, in his mind, when he stepped inside the call-box and he realized that the inside had to be 50 times the size of the outside of the box. How that was possible was lost on him. He knew better than to ask though.

Amelia led him to a lift, but not one that made any sense. The moment that they stepped aboard, the ceiling fell away, and the one above that, and the one above that. The lift didn’t move, as far has he could tell. Amelia led him by the hand to her office. He could read the plaque on her desk:  _ Director, Magical Law Enforcement – London, UK _

Amelia took out a blue-gray orb and set it in a holder on her desk. The room became faintly blue and he felt something wash over him. “There, you can speak now.”

“Where am I?”

“Several hundred feet below London proper. My name is Amelia Bones and I am the Director of Magical Law Enforcement for all of Great Britain.”

“So I assume that you’re telling me that magic is real?”

“Oh yea. And not like anything you can imagine.”

“Why me?” he asked, curious.

“Because I need someone in the muggle press whom I can count on, if I have to distribute a story, or suppress a story, or get you folks to look somewhere else for a while.”

“So you want to use me?”

“More or less.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“You want to meet the girl who the government reported on?”

THAT got his attention. “Not to put too fine a point on it, but oh my fucking God, yes.”

Amelia smiled wide. “Now, remember that you’re meeting someone who’s very young. She could easily be hurt by something you said. Be gentle with her.”

“I’m a father, Ms. Bones. I will be gentle with her.”

Amelia hit a button and said, “Janice, send Harley in, please.”

The door behind them opened and in walked the most amazingly beautiful young girl Tim had ever seen. Her hair, curly and long, was Black… but no, it was red. But…no. It was black again. He had literally never seen anything like it. Then he saw her eyes and his stomach clenched. Her eyes were glowing. Literally glowing. They were iridescent green and he never seen anything like it. He had never even imagined anything like it. 

Amelia said, “Lady Ross. Thank you for coming in and making this possible. This is the Muggle I told you about.”

Harley curtsied and extended her hand, as Draco had showed her how to do when meeting someone whose rank or position you don’t know. “Sir. It is a pleasure. Welcome to our world.”

“Thank you for meeting me, Lady Ross. I am told that you were the one who called out for Hermione. Who is she?”

“She’s my wife, sir.”

Tim stopped in his tracks and looked at Amelia. “I’m warning you, Mr. Shipman, don’t judge her. Lady Ross is usually exceptionally gentle, but she can literally kill you with a thought. There is no one in our world – some fifty million of us – who is more powerful than Harley.”

He looked at her and tried to keep from peeing himself. “Is Ms. Bones right in that, Lady Ross?” He asked as softly as he could. 

“Probably” she said, equally as quietly. 

“Can you tell me why you called out for your wife? How did it happen that everyone heard it?”

Harley took several long minutes to tell him the story, about how she had gone back to Hermione’s house, thinking she’d be there, and not finding her. She talked about her feelings of panic and loss, about how nothing else mattered than finding Hermione.

“How is it that she’s your wife?”

Harley smiled. That was a better, happier story. Harley told the abbreviated version. 

“And you’re how old?”

“Born July 31, 1980”

“Couple of final questions, if I may.”

Harley shrugged. This was easy duty, so she didn’t care.

“Can I see you do some magic? Something that maybe no one else can do?”

Harley had just the thing. She looked at him, extended her hand, and a huge, glowing white, solid stag appeared in the middle of the room.

Amelia just about passed out. No one did a fully corporal, solid Patronus, wandless and soundless. Tim really didn’t know what he was looking at, so he said, “Anything else?”

Harley grinned and then took four galleons from her small clutch-purse. She tossed them up into the air and then made them fly. Then she made them land on him as miniature dragons. By this point, Amelia was about to piss herself. Then Harley did something that really, really got to Amelia. Harley silently commanded the Galleons to form a 5’ by 4’ rectangle, approximately 5’ high, in the middle of the air, and then did  _ something.  _ The next thing she knew, a portal had opened. Harley called out, “Hermione, love?”

“Sweetie? Where are you?” Hermione’s voice came back. 

“London. Can you step through the portal please?”

To her eternal frustration, Hermione Dagworth-Ross stepped through the portal, smiled, and then kissed her wife. It took her a moment even to recognize that there other people in the room. When she did, she blushed. “Oh, Lady Bones. Hi.”

By this time, Amelia was well and truly stewing in her own juices, so her reply was perfunctory at best. “This is Tim Shipman. He’s a non-mag who works for the Times of London. He wanted to know who “Hermione” was, so Lady Bones thought it would be a good idea to introduce him to the magical world.”

Hermione curtsied as well and then said, “Hi. I’m Hermione Dagworth-Ross, Harley’s wife.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I can see why Harley is so taken with you.”

“Oh. Well, thank you.”

“Can you tell me how  _ you _ felt the moment that you heard Harley’s call?”

Hermione thought about that for a moment. “I guess… desperation mostly. Panic too. I knew that I couldn’t wait another minute to go to her. I ran along the side of the highway, after I jumped out of the back of my parent’s car, focused on Harley, and then used all my magic to just make it happen. Not sure exactly what I did, but it didn’t feel like what I’ve been told it’s supposed to feel like.”

“How far did you travel?” He asked. 

Hermione thought about that for a second. “Less than 100 clicks, but I’m not positive of that. Harley and I have gone all the way to Moscow in a single effort, but that first time was different. I’m still working it out.”

Amelia was now in full panic mode. The two young mages had admitted to Apparating from London to Moscow in a single jump – almost 1,600 miles – as if it were nothing. Even Albus was said to be taxed if he went from Hogwarts to London and that was only five hundred or so miles. 

“Final question? How does it feel to be in love at such a young age?”

Harley grinned. “It’s great. Scary, challenging… I keep thinking I’m way not good enough for her. But I love her so much than I can’t describe it to you.”

“You feel the same way, Hermione?”

“Yes, in spades. I’m always certain that I’m not good enough for her. She handles her magic so effortlessly and she’s so smart. I feel like I don’t deserve her love, because I’ll never be enough of what she needs… but she tells me every day how much she loves me and her magic tells that to me, too.”

Tim knew truth when he heard it and the girls were telling the truth. Also, they had no real reason to lie to him. “Thank you for meeting me. I know you didn’t have to do this. The whole world, and I mean that, heard your cry Harley, and felt your desperation and your sadness. I’m honored to be the one who knows the full truth of it.”

Harley looked at him and nodded. “I suppose it’s overkill to tell you that if you say anything to anyone that endangers Hermione, there’s nowhere you can go that I can’t find you. No one can protect you from me. I  _ will _ kill you and do it in the most terrible way that I can think of at the moment. Are we clear?” 

Tim did the only thing he could think of in the moment. He peed himself in fear. 

Harley pursed her lips and, in an instant, the mess was gone, but not the fear. 

“Talk to you later, Lady Bones.” Hermione and Harley clasped hands and shimmered into blackness, before disappearing entirely. 

_ Fucking Mages. More trouble than they’re worth _ she thought to herself as the two girls tore all of her security protocols to shreds and laughed at the wards surrounding her office. Supposedly the best that money could buy. 

“Thank you, Lady Bones. I appreciate all that you’ve done for me today. I never expected to hear a story quite like that.”

“You’re welcome” she said somewhat brusquely. This meeting had not gone at all how she had envisioned it. “Now, let me lead you out.” She gathered he wand, her badge, and a pair of handcuffs. She never knew when she was going to need them.

They walked to the lift and got on. Amelia did something and the lift reversed the process from earlier, only faster this time. When they got to ‘ground floor’, she let him out of the lift and towards the door of the supposed call-box. He stepped out into the daytime sun. Amelia looked at him and said, “Take to heart what Harley said, Tim. There really isn’t anywhere you can run that she will not find you. When she finds you, your death will be extraordinarily painful.”

Tim nodded soberly and then wandered off, thinking about all he had just seen and heard.  _ A whole separate world, right under our noses. Damn. Isn’t that a trick?” _

** _End Flashback_ **

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**26 Carlile Place, Richmond, UK – Sunday, August 2, 1992**

Sunday had come quickly for Tim. Much faster, in fact, than any Sunday in his memory. He had worked more than 75 hours since his meeting with Harley Ross and Hermione Dagworth-Granger, committing their entire meeting to notes and recording his impressions of Amelia Bones, of magic itself, and what the girls had showed him.

Then he took all of those notes and brought them to Armitage Vaults, off Bulsover Street, in the West End of London. For the ridiculous price of $2,500 pounds Sterling, he bought access to a 5” wide, 2.5” high, 18” long ‘mini-vault’. He took the key, for which he would have to pay an additional £500 per year to keep, and tucked it in his pocket. Then he left, feeling much relieved. He could now properly forget about what he had seen. Since nothing at all is worth your life. 

When he got back, since the bank never, ever closed, he found the morning’s copy of the paper. The above-the-fold massive headline read,  **“READERS RESPOND, AND HOW.” **

The paper was at least three times thicker than he was expecting. He knew, because of talking to several of the editors, that the ‘reader-response’ section had drawn such attention that ads for it were going at four and five times their normal rate. 

While he should have read the front page cover to cover, to make sure that he was aware of everything going on, he skipped directly to the reader-response section. 

The responses ran from the banal to the down-right touching. People talked about longing in their own lives and about moments of quiet desperation. They talked about the moment that that they heard the call and how they stood, sat, etc. and cried. Several of the responses though got his attention. It had come in through a double -anonymized email filter, so there was no way of tracing it back (which, in this case, was a crying shame). “I know Hermione. I know why the cry came and I can only imagine how Hermione felt when she heard it. I know I sat and cried in my aunt’s house. I hope that someday, someone will love me enough to cry out like that.”

Tim smiled.  _ I know who you are. You’re Amelia Bone’s niece.  _ It was amazing how a bit of trust on his part could uncover so much. He kept digging though. He’d only cracked the first two pages! 

It didn’t take him long to find another really interesting addition. “ _ I know Hermione. I don’t know what happened that caused the person who loves her to call out like that, but it had to have been serious. Hermione is so sweet, gentle… smart. I’m lucky to know her.” _

After reading all through the special insert, he found two more of that same vein: People who claimed to know Hermione personally.  He sat back and thought about that. It told him that there were magic-users who knew enough about technology to send triple-blind, super-secretive emails. It also told him that, as a group, they were remarkably careful about what they said about her. 

The more he thought about the situation, the more he realized that he needed to talk to the higher-ups. Maybe to the PM and just maybe, to her Majesty. The question was – how to get heard. Well, there was always a Friday afternoon press scrum at Downing Street. Just maybe, he could get heard there. His reporter’s instinct told him it was worthwhile. 

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**Saul Croaker’s office, Unspeakables Department, Ministry for Magic – Friday, July 18** **th**

Saul looked at the secret, encrypted, inter-office memo that he had just been sent by the head of the DMLE. “… Need to see you, soonest.”.

_ Well, shit. There goes the morning, at least.  _ Saul thought to himself. 

“Jane!” he called out. 

Dutiful woman that she was, Jane skittered into his office. “Yes, boss?”

“Just got a note from Amelia. Something’s got a bug up her ass. Please cover down here until I get back. You know the limits, right?”

Jane nodded dutifully.  _ Of course she knew the limits _ .

“I’m sorry… you know I have to ask. If it’s not life-and-death, decide. You’re smart and I trust you.”

“Thank you, Jane. I appreciate you.”

“You too, boss.” And with that, she turned and walked back to her desk. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Saul Croaker faded into sight in Amelia’s office. Something felt different, but he could be sure what it was. He coughed, to get Amelia’s attention. 

Amelia looked up, picked up a stoppered vial, and handed it to him. “Watch this in my Pensieve, while I finish this document, and then we can talk. Saul didn’t even question her, but rather did as asked. Disappearing into the swirl of the Pensieve while he watched the memory. 

When he returned, he looked at her. “They’re not Mages. They’re Arch-Mages.”

“Yea, that’s what I thought too. My wards all surrendered to Harley was if they weren’t here. I might as well not have had any protection at all.” Amelia said, with considerable anger. 

“And what was that thing they did at the end? Sure as hell wasn’t Apparition.”

“No. It’s their own thing. If they start teaching that to the kids at Hogwarts, we’re all fucked. When I saw it, I didn’t believe it.”

Saul looked at her, and Amelia could see his frustration. “I think we’re all fucked anyway. They’re teaching kids how to use magic in ways that no of us have ever seen before and they’ll be assembling their own army, loyal to them and them alone.”

“They’ve suborned Lucius Malfoy, Augusta Longbottom, the Weasleys, they’ve freed Sirius Black, or else, someone did. They have the covert or overt support of most the Hogwarts teachers, as well was the Horde, as if we have to even mention them.”

‘Speaking of Black, any progress?”

“Yea. I can scuttle the entire arrest-on-sight order right now, which I’m going to do. Then I’m going to call for an investigation about his imprisonment. It’s got Albus’ nasty, dirty fingers all over it. There was never a trial, no investigation, no evidence collection, nothing. He was picked up and thrown in jail, and left there, even though I have reason to believe that…” And Amelia ran headlong into the power of the Fidelius. She literally could not say anything more. 

“Reason to believe what?... “

“There’s something out there, Saul. And I can’t name it, so that makes me think there’s a  _ Fidelius _ blocking me. I keep running into the same obstacle. It’s got to do with Sirius and the Potter’s will and…” she kept pushing, mentally, to see where it would break. And that’s where it broke. She couldn’t say anything about the Potters or their will, to someone who didn’t already know.

Saul saw her struggling and realized immediately what she was facing. “You don’t know that I already know, since I’m an Unspeakable.”

She looked at him, frustrated. “Then you know everything that I know, along with things that I don’t know, but you can’t say them to me, either?”

“Something like that.”

“What should I do?”

“Don’t let Fudge release the Dementors to hunt Sirius, which he will do, if he feels threatened. Remind him that he’s safe. Keep emphasizing that. Tell him that a new trial has to be ordered, and Fudge will be seen the hero if he gets justice for Black, who is after all, a Pureblood lord.”

Amelia nodded; admiring the wisdom of the suggestion. “What about  _ my _ wards?”

“Get Gringotts to put up a new set for you, the best that they have, and let Ragnok know, gently, that the Lady Ross casually took down all of your wards during her last visit and that just can’t be acceptable.”

“They won’t be any more functional than the last set.”

Saul snorted. “The girls are arch-magi. Nothing’s ever going to work against them. I think that short of the death-curse, and I have my doubts about that one, the Unforgiveables would just annoy them. But say you managed to hurt one or the other of them… where would you hide when they decided to come looking for you?”

Amelia’s response was blunt. “Yea…” 

“At least I have an out. The Death Arch is only one door down from my office.”

“Thanks for that” Amelia said, realizing what he was saying. 

“Always look on the bright side of life” he sang, in almost perfect mimicry of the song from the  _ Life of Brian _ . 

If she had had a couple of drinks in her, she might have replied with a verse from “ _ Every Sperm is Sacred” _ , but this sober, she knew better.

“So… justice for a pure-blood lord and no dementors?” Not asking too much?”

“Fudge is a coward. Use that as your underlying  _ Motus vivendi _ and go from there. And, you may find unexpected help in Lucius Malfoy. Things are happening on that front that I had not foreseen and he could be very useful.”

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**10 Downing Street, London, UK – Friday afternoon Press Scrum**

The Prime Minister of England hated the Friday afternoon press scrum. He didn’t like being yelled at and there just seemed to be no way to control the press gaggle, other than with threats of force. However, the event was traditional and went back as far as the early part of WWII, when Churchill used to meet reporters to give them updates on the war and to reassure them, as much as to reassure their readers. 

Most days, the gaggle was a fair indication of what was on the minds of the people of Great Britain and reflected both the overall mood of the country as well as its current ‘concern of the day’. Sometimes though, something came up that changed the direction of the meeting entirely and he was forced to stop short. 

As he stepped out of the building on this day, he was immediately approached by one of the British SAS officers who acted as security for the building. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Prime Minister. I was asked to give you this note, by the man over in the blue slacks and white shirt. The note’s clean and safe. There’s no threat.”

“Very good” John Major said, and he held up the note, unfolded it, and read it. Twice. Then another time to make sure his eyes weren’t lying.

“ **Mr. Prime Minister. My name is Tim Shipman. I write for the London Times. You met recently with Amelia Bones of the DMLE. We need to talk. **

**Respectfully**

**Timothy J. Shipman”**

“Leftenant, postpone the scrum until tomorrow morning at 10 hundred hours. Bring Mr. Shipman to my office right now.”

The Lefttenant saluted crisply and marched off. John Major reversed direction and headed to his office. He was going to need Tea for this meeting. With Whiskey. Maybe  _ lots _ of Whiskey. He might even be able to dispense with the tea and just go straight to the Whiskey. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

When Tim had been seen into Prime Minister Major’s office, he was told to wait, standing, while the PM entered. The moment that John entered, he waved away the security officer and signaled that the door should be closed.

“This meeting did not happen, agreed?”

Tim nodded. “I was never here.”

“Good. Now, what is it that you have to say to me Mr. Shipman?”

“Tim, please, sir.”

“Thank you, Tim. I appreciate it. John then.”

“Thank you, John. Now I met with Amelia Bones. That was certainly true. But you also need to know, because your government would not have cause to know this, that the two girls – 12 yr. old’s – the Lady Harley Janel Ross, and the Lady Hermione Dagworth-Ross, are not what your government has been told.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I got to meet them and Amelia described them as being the most powerful two magic users on the planet, out of a population of close to fifty million. She said that Harley could kill me with a thought. I asked Harley if she thought that was true, and she said, quietly, that it was ‘probably true’. Now you should also know that these two young ladies are, according to the rules that Amelia described to me,  _ married. _ ”

That got John’s immediate attention. “Married, you say?”

“Yes, married. The reason that Harley called out for Hermione, and that the world heard it, was that Harley had just been involved in a running battle, where three people were killed and two others significantly wounded. She left the scene and went to Hermione’s home, expecting to find her there. When she didn’t, she panicked. That’s why she cried out. I heard from Hermione directly how she was on the highway, in her parents’ car, when she heard the panicked call, and left that vehicle, ran along the shoulder, and then used her magic to open a magical doorway directly to Harley.”

“Oh, and about that, I asked Hermione how it felt to be loved by Harley. Here’s what she said, and I’m quoting her words, <I’m always certain that I’m not good enough for her. She handles her magic so effortlessly and she’s so smart. I feel like I don’t deserve her love, because I’ll never be enough of what she needs… but she tells me every day how much she loves me and her magic tells that to me, too.> Close quote.”

“How do Hermione’s parents react to their daughter being married?”

“We didn’t get into that, John, but I have to think that they don’t have a lot of say in the situation. Just how much control would you have over a God?”

“A God you say?”

“Well, yes. A God. I saw Harley Ross open a portal from somewhere directly into what I have to imagine is  _ the _ most secure office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in downtown London, and she didn’t even break a sweat. No chanting, no obvious display of power…. She just  _ did _ it. As if there was no security in or around the office.”

“When we were finished, John, Hermione and Harley held hands, and oh by the way, they make the most beautiful couple you’ve ever seen, they just  _ disappeared.  _ They shimmered into blackness and faded away.”

John thought about all that he had just been told and about some of ramifications. 

“Is there a danger to the Kingdom from either of these girls?”

“No, not that I can see, unless of course you very, very foolishly somehow hurt either of them. Then you’d be facing a war you can’t possibly win.”

John thought back to the briefing with Amelia, and her words about  _ “Hermione could pull a meteor out of orbit and drop it right on your building in New York. And if that didn’t kill all of you, she’d pull more, until she was satisfied that there was nothing but rubble to bounce around. I’m also fairly certain that she could walk into this room, through Amelia’s ‘security’ and kill us all without even thinking about it. How painful our deaths would be, would be directly proportional to how angry she is.” _

“John, Harley told me quietly that there’s no where I can go that she can’t find me. There’s nowhere I can hide that she can’t get to me. She told me that if I hurt Hermione, she will kill me slowly, so that I suffer horror until I die. So, I think the idea is that we make sure Hermione is safe and protected and that will keep Harley off the warpath.”

“You think she would go psychotic?”

“John, you and I both know that young love is both fragile and beautiful. It’s honest and tender and needy. It needs constant reassurance and affection. Yes, I think that if you hurt Hermione particularly, Harley could snap. If Harley could generate the magic necessary to have every single person on Earth hear her cry, then she could certainly go to war because Hermione had been hurt. That’s if you  _ hurt _ Hermione. Kill her and you’re looking at genocide on a scale never seen before. Harley would become psychotic evil and there’s nothing that could be done about it.”

“So it’s in the government’s interest to make sure these two are protected?”

“Just… safe and left alone, John. I have no idea how much your government knows ‘officially’ about the magical world, or how much reach you have into that world, but it would really, really behoove you to make sure that those girls are watched and people are kept off their backs. They should be able to grow in their marriage, and given the peace and quiet to do that. If they’re happy and feeling safe… then bodies don’t start piling up. Oh, and on that note, I got the feeling from Amelia that there is a particular amount of leeway where Harley and Hermione are concerned, because they are Magus or Magi. That includes killing people whom they feel need to die. Apparently, the magical world puts a much lower value on life. You’re expected to look out for yourself and not attract the attention of those who have more power than you do. You might want to look into that.”

John thought about that. He had heard the same trope in other countries, where the powerful did and took what they wanted, with impunity. He didn’t expect to hear it about the UK. It was very much worth looking into and would be the subject of a meeting with the Home Secretary and the Justice Minister, along with Amelia and her toady boss, Fudge. 

John looked at him and said, “You’ve given me a lot here, Tim. I can’t publicly thank you, but I can tell you that if you need questions answered for the paper, post them to me and I’ll see you get straight answers.”

Tim’s heart lifted on that news. It would help him immeasurably to have a pipeline into the PM’s office. 

He rose. “John, thank you. I never expected, in my life, to have the honor to meet directly.”

“You’re welcome, Tim. Thank you for what you’ve risked here and for your honesty.”

“For Queen and Country, sir.”

“Exactly my feelings. I will mention you to her when next I speak with her.”

“It wouldn’t hurt for the girls to meet her, John. A little patriotism might feed their souls well.”

“Not a bad idea. Have a good day, sir.”

“You as well, Tim. This never happened.”

“I was never here” he said with a smile.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Of course, for someone who had never been there, Tim Shipman kicked up a great deal of dirt when John Major started making phone calls. The first was, predictably, to MI-5 & 3/4 to talk to them about the state of affairs in the magical world. That they were worse than useless was utterly infuriating. They had no current operatives, because every single one had either been discovered and killed or turned, by the Department of Mysteries. That meant he was going to have to call the French, to see what they knew. 

The second phone call went to MI-5 – the Kingdom’s internal security branch. That went no better. Both girls were, “ghosts” and didn’t exist as far as they could tell. At this point, John Major was starting to develop serious anger issues. His third call was to  Sir Malcolm Leslie Rifkind, the Secretary of Defense. Malcom had the proper clearances and could be read-in on the existence of Magic.  _ Ok. One for three. Not great, but it’s a start.  _ John Major thought to himself. 

His final call was the Queen’s residence, to speak with Sir Robert Fellows, the Private Secretary to the Queen. That call lasted five minutes and was entirely satisfactory. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

A week passed and John continued to turn over proverbial rocks of all shapes. As he conversed with department-heads and cabinet members, it began to look like someone had gone through and done a systematic purge of any knowledge of the magical world. Anyone who had special, compartmentalized access to that information had been somehow… wiped? Of the information. Each claimed no recollection of ever signing National security documents regarding protecting that particular bit of information. John began to worry that it was systematic effort by magicals to hide their presence. He was going to have to take it up with Amelia Bones and the little spit-wad of a man, Fudge. 

He kept pushing though and eventually, hit the mother-load. He found, because the nation actually paid archivists, the original treaty between the Monarchy and the magicals of the Realm. It was a long and wordy document from 977 AD and was signed by Edward the First, also called “Edward the Martyr”. It settled the fight between the magicals of Great Britain and the throne. The deal was that in exchange for home rule, the Magicals of Great Britain would swear absolute fealty to the King or Queen, as uncontested Monarch. With that in hand, he called the Queen’s personal secretary. He now had real work to do.

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**Office of the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge – August 10** **th** **, 1992**

Amelia Bones really detested Cornelius Fudge. No man should wear a bowler hat and beyond that, no one should wear a  _ green, felt _ bowler hat. It was poisonously ugly and did nothing to make the man look taller, smarter or anything else that diminished his bad features or accented his few positive features. He was a rotund, boarder-line corpulent man who had a thing for gray, three-piece, pin-striped suits, which did nothing for his features or gravitas. 

He was, in fact, the poster-child for the meme, “ _ Cornelius Fudge: Because Voldemorte’s balls won’t suck themselves.” _ . Amelia shuddered in revolt as she thought of that image and it even made her a little sick-in-the-mouth.

Amelia knocked on Fudge’s door, after breezing by his secretary. “Cornelius? Have some time?”

There was no one in his outer office and his schedule was, in fact, clear for the afternoon – which she had already confirmed by suborning one of the house-elves to check it, while invisible. Since he couldn’t say no, he waved her in. “Have a seat, Amelia. What brings you over?”

“I’ve got a list. Where would you like to start? The hard stuff that has some up-side for us or the hard stuff, that’s going to cost us money?”

“Ah, Amelia. You don’t make the choice easy do you. How rich is  _ your _ budget feeling today?”

She laughed. “It’s not. And you know that, too.”

“So, tell me about the hard stuff that has up-side for us?”.

So she did. They talked for more than twenty minutes, back and forth and she filed in gaps for him that he hadn’t known. She reminded him that Sirius Black had escaped, with outside help, and had disappeared. She told him that her department was fairly certain that Sirius was nowhere in the United Kingdom. Then she lowered the boom and told him about the fact that he had never received a trial because of what very much looked like Dumbledork’s interference. They discussed the fact that no evidence from the supposed crime scene had ever been collected and that Sirius Black had never been interrogated, or even notified of his rights. 

“So, you’re saying that if I help you to arrange a trial for Sirius, it will help me in the press?”

Amelia wanted to vomit on him. He had a completely one-tract mind when it came to politics: “What was in it for him.”

“Yes, Cornelius. It will make the pure-bloods pleased, it will make certain other factions happy, and it will piss-off Dumbledore. I don’t see a down-side.”

“Then get it done! My goodness.”

“Well, you’re not going to love me for this other piece, but it can’t be helped.”

“Oh, fine... tell me what’s going on.”

Amelia told him about Harley’s visit to her office, minus any reference to the muggle, and how she (Harley) and Hermione had, between the two of them, completely taken down the wards around the office, as if they had never been there. 

“I want to meet them.”

Amelia had expected that. “I’m sure we can arrange that, Cornelius. Just please remember that these really are *girls* and impressionable, sensitive ones at that. When Harley cried out in terror for Hermione, it was because she was so scared, that she was  _ alone _ when she had just met her mate, her *everything*.” 

Cornelius had no problem putting himself in Harley’s shoes. He had been trapped, once as a very young boy, in an abandoned’ houses’ basement, and he had cried out in terror as well. 

“And you say that they tore apart your office wards as if they weren’t there?”

“Basically. You can come look for yourself. You’re a competent wizard. I’m sure you’ll see what I saw: the complete destruction of the underlying magical matrix that supported the ward-scheme.”

“And you want one of the Ministry ward-builders to create an all-new scheme, to replace the old one?”

“Well, yes. I went to Gringotts. They said, in essence, ‘Too bad about your ward-scheme. Maybe if you hired us from the get-go, we might have been interested in helping out, but you didn’t, so… too bad.”

Cornelius snorted in disgust. He hated dealing with the Goblins. They creeped him out and their language, guttural and fast as it was, made him more than a little nervous. 

“Hate the beasts. They have us in a strangle-hold and they’re not letting go any time soon.”

“No sir, they’re not” Amelia responded. She didn’t want to pick this particular fight right now. “But that doesn’t alleviate my need for a new ward-scheme for my office. Some of those wards were close to 1000 yrs. old and the girls forced them down as if they just didn’t care or didn’t feel them. It’s not like this is my fault. There was no way to know that the girls could do what they do.”

“So bill them for it.”

“Right… I’m going to bill the First of the Twenty-Eight for coming and going from my office, which happened at  _ my request _ , for the total destruction of my wards. At which point would you start laughing if you were she?”

Fudge could see the problem. Harley Ross would drag Amelia in front of the Wizengamot and then laugh at her, officially. It would be ruinous to her standing and make the 12 year old that much more appealing or at least sympathetic, than she already is. 

“Fine.” Fudge finally said, resigned to the inevitable. “Get the senior warders for the Ministry to put together their estimates for a full re-work of all of the wards for your office and then have them send it to me. We’ll find the money, somewhere.”

“Why don’t you just slap a two-percent sales tax on all non-food items, just like the Muggles do, and go from there? It would fund the ministry and yet be set at a much lower percentage than our European friend. It would make us attractive for shopping, especially if we start inviting other English-speaking nations to set up shop here in the Kingdom.”

Fudge looked at her. Hers were good ideas. “Tell me again why you didn’t run for Minister?” he asked, incredulously. 

“Never wanted it. I like law enforcement too much. Never wanted to be boss and have to deal with political bullshit.”

Fudge thought about that. He had always viewed Amelia as a threat to his job because he thought she wanted it. Hearing that that wasn’t the case, made him think that he had done the wrong thing in not supporting her in some of her earlier efforts. 

“So if I support you, you’ll support me?”

“You’re my boss, unless you do something catastrophically stupid or illegal, yes, I will support you.”

Fudge thought about that too. He wasn’t exactly lily-white, but he wasn’t corrupt, either. “We have a deal then.”

“Get a muggle-born finance expert, Cornelius. He or she will teach you all sorts of new ways of raising money for the Ministry. He or she will help you reform the tax code and make it fair and make it work for everyone. Then get someone whose expertise is attracting business. I promise you that if you make our economy boom, you’ll be seen as the single greatest Minister for Magic  _ ever _ .”

Fudge  _ liked _ the sound of that. And if it meant recruiting and paying a couple of people, he could do that. His office ran lean anyway. 

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**North shore of Lake ** **Monetjørna** **, Norway – Harley’s summer training home – August 10** **th**

Hermione dove on her broom, not caring about the speed or anything else. She was utterly safe. Plus, she had a wife to find and molest. Her libido was strong and insistent now, and nothing satisfied her more than Harley’s touch. It didn’t help that she was riding a broom that was rubbing her in all the right ways. 

_ How the fuck do Quidditch players not spend most of the game cumming on their brooms? _ Then she laughed.  _ Who says they don’t? _

Hermione almost didn’t turn in time to see Harley diving down next to her, tapping her on the shoulder, yelling, “You’re it!” and zooming off again.  _ God damn it! Where was she hiding? She’s so good at this! _

Hermione turned on her broom and gave chase, all but despairing of catching her wife. Harley was just the best flyer anyone had ever seen.  _ With the nicest ass two hands had ever held! _ Hermione’s randy side said, with little to no embarrassment. 

Finally, Harley had mercy on her and the two of them landed. Tied back in a single plait, her hair was a black, coiled snake that fell half-way down her back. The racing suit that she wore was high-cut and defined every bit of her muscular back and bottom. Hermione looked at her wife and felt her sex pulse with sympathetic need. Hermione’s suit was cut just the same way and was stretched to its reasonable limits by her recent growth. She was now 5’3, on her way to what the doctor said would be 5’7” or 5’8”. 

While both carried their wands, they were finding less and less use for them. What magic they wanted to do, they did wandlessly. It unnerved Sirius, but he had grown up being wedded to his wand. 

Sirius met them in the house’s kitchen. “Isabelle would like me to teach you dueling, starting today, so let’s meet outside, by the lake, in an hour, ok?”

The girls eyed each other and then ran off to their bedroom, giggling. Sirius rubbed the bridge of his nose as he heard a substantial door-locking charm being applied and then a silencing charm – which was fine, since no one really wanted to know what the two were getting up to, despite Jake’s protestations to the contrary. 

The door had just closed itself behind her when Hermione felt hands on her hips and lips nuzzling her neck. The bathing-suit that she had been wearing seemed to slither off her body on its own accord, leaving her happily naked. 

“I want you”

Hermione moaned as Harley’s hand slithered up her body to cup one of her breasts. Hermione felt a momentary twang of disappointment that her breasts weren’t bigger, but she pushed it aside. Her mother’s breasts were beautiful and she knew she’d get there… she just wanted to be the best for Harley. 

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are, Hermione?” Harley asked, as she continued kissing Hermione’s neck and touching her all over. 

“Not as beautiful as you, love” Hermione said, as Harley’s hands touched a particularly erotic spot.

“Hermione…” Harley growled. “No one makes me wet like you.”

That made Hermione feel particularly good. She thrilled to the idea of turning on her wife, even if the reality was that Hermione knew she was looking into a very large world through a very narrow window – a window that would grow as she got older and smarter. In the moment thought, Hermione wiggled in her wife’s touch and shuddered with pleasure as Harley’s hands did wonderful things for her. 

“We have a half-hour or so… bed?” Harley asked.

Hermione thought that was an  _ awesome _ idea.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

An hour later, Sirius stood with the two girls, on a dock that Hermione had conjured for the purpose. “I’m going to try to teach you two situational awareness and how not to get overwhelmed in a duel. For all your power, an adult witch or wizard can usually curse much faster than either of you, and will try to pin you down before you’re able to do anything. I want to show you what that feels like today and what you might be able to do about it.”

Harley grinned. So did Hermione. Sirius looked at them nervously, as their grins had distinctly predatory edge to them. 

“Ready to begin? Which one of you first?” Sirius asked. Hermione shrugged. “I’ll go first, Sirius.” She said.

Sirius walked with her out onto the dock, showed her the proper bow, and then said, “We go until one of us can’t get up, ok?”

Hermione grinned again. She put away her wand and looked at him. “Ready when you are.”

Now Sirius was nervous. He thought Isabelle was kidding about Hermione’s power. “Ok, begin!”

Sirius started with a straight-line attack of bludgers,  _ Reductos, Glaceo’s _ and other, combinations intended to push one’s opponent back and disorient him or her. When he was finished, he looked at the results of his attacks. Nothing. Hermione stood there, shielded, completely unfazed. “My turn” she said. And hell opened up and came for him. 

Every nightmare he had ever had, crawled up out of a hole and started circling him. He started feeling pain in his arms and legs, and there was the heat of Hades threatening to burn him alive. Sirius tapped out.

When the illusion disappeared, Sirius looked at Hermione with something like… awe. 

“How did you do that?”

“Mostly, you did it to yourself. I just used Legilimency, illusion, projection, and localized heat effects.” Sirius shook his head. It was astonishing that Hermione could create something so devastating and yet use so little energy and magic to make it happen. It spoke to an absolutely exquisite magical control.

“My turn!” Harley said, excitedly. She had some ideas about how to fuck with Sirius without hurting him, which she really didn’t want to do. 

After traded bows, Sirius opened up with what appeared to be his standard set of attacks. Harley looked at him, unfazed. There was nothing that he could do with the level of magic that he was throwing that would ever get to her. When he realized it, he switched to some of the more esoteric stuff and much edgier kinds of magic. He was tiring and Harley could see it. Sirius didn’t know that Harley had almost inexhaustible magical resources, so he felt like he was beating on an intractable stone door. 

Finally, Harley started conjuring. Sirius realized that the dock he was standing on was sinking. Then he saw the fin in the water. Coming at him. It was a fin 6’ out of the water. Gray, triangular, and singular, there was one and only one animal to which it could belong. The water was around his ankles now and fear was starting to cling to his heart. It was at that point that he realized that he could no longer move his legs. He was paralyzed from the waist-down. At 30’, the animal broke the surface. It was massive and it was coming for him. He couldn’t get away. He tapped out.

And just like that, the shark disappeared and the dock rose to its customary position. Sirius started shaking and the shaking turned to tears. Hermione and Harley apparated to his side, to hug him and reassure him. 

“We didn’t want to hurt you, Sirius, so our only play was to go after your fears. We’re sorry.”

He looked at them and realized what they had tried to do, which was to find a way to beat him that didn’t involve actually getting violent. “My ma would be very sad if I hurt you, Sirius. She likes you a lot, and you deserve to have a chance to be happy. I didn’t want to do anything that would mess with that.” Harley said quietly. 

“And my parents would be very disappointed with me if I hurt you, because I was showing off and not thinking about your situation.” Hermione said carefully.

“Gonna have to get someone else to train you.” Sirius said, finally. “I’d never survive if either or both of you cast at me with anything like your full power and I don’t want to know what either of you is actually capable of doing.”

It wasn’t unexpected really. The girls had but to touch someone and they could tell where the person’s limits lay. Isabelle was moderately powerful, but Hermione knew she was no threat to either of them. Same thing with Minerva or any other of the teachers at Hogwarts. The only person they hadn’t actually touched was the Headmaster, and that was probably by his design. 

Garrick Ollivander was someone who was interesting. He was immensely powerful, but his magic was incredibly narrowly focused. He was also  _ old _ . He was only the fifth Ollivander to run the shop since the store had opened in 382 BC., which meant that, on average, his relatives lived to be close to 500 years old. 

“There is a retired Auror. Mad-eye Moody. He’s responsible for more than half of the Death-eaters who are in Azkaban. I am going to reach out to him, to see if he’ll train you. He’s a crusty piece of work, but he has no love for Dumbledork and he likes a challenge. Interested?”

Hermione shrugged, as did Harley. Anything that helped them progress was good. Self-study takes you only so far, before you don’t see what you don’t see (and need to). 

“Good. I’ll get him. In the meantime, I’ve been told that you could probably pull meteors out of the sky and direct them to hit things. Rather than doing that, I want you to pull several meteors down and use your magic to catch them. Using that level of magic should be a good exercise for you.”

Several days went by as the girls practiced doing just as Sirius has asked – pulling down and catching meteors up to 90 meters across. That seemed to be the upper limit for what they could do comfortably. Harley thought she might be able to go to 100 meters, but she didn’t want to make a mistake. 

Unfortunately, playing with high-level magic tends to get one noticed. The Magical Secret Service of Norway,  ** _Magisk hemmelig tjeneste i Norge_ ** , started sending its highest-level operatives to watch the show and report back. As the girls practiced, the agents peed themselves. The power they were demonstrating was so far off the charts that they needed new charts. 

Lt. Colonel  Johan Berg watched from a hidden enclosure as the two girls used powers beyond his comprehension to pull rocks out of space and then catch them, as they fell towards the Earth at 18 to 24 thousand miles per hour. He thought about his own two daughters and wondered what it might be like to try to parent a not-quite-teenager who could quite literally pull the roof down. Afterward, he watched the two girls kiss, quite seriously, and then disappear. 

Two of his field personnel returned to their blind a few minutes later, to report in. He looked at them. 

“Well?”

“Massive fucking meteors, sir. Iron-cored, heavy meteors. They’re all over the place. Between the two of them, I’d say they’ve done us an enormous boon by pulling a vast amount of stuff out of orbit that could have come crashing down uncontrolled.”

“Do we know of anyone else who could do this?”

“The headmaster at Ilvermorny is said to be a Mage, and Dumbledore of course, but that’s it.”

“Could they do this?”

“No. Not that we know of, sir. This seems limited to these two.”

“Do we have anyone on staff who could anything more than annoy them?”

One of the junior officers shook his head and then said, “Sir, I wouldn’t do anything to these two girls more strenuous than asking them to please not drop one of these on anyone we’ve not cleared in advance to have a meteor dropped on.”

“Do the Russians know that these two are here?”

“Sir, with all due respect, based on the radar telemetry itself, how could they not? A 90 meter asteroid falls towards the Earth, only to stop of its own accord and settle down nice-as-you-please in a field next to a lake? How does that not reek of magic?”

“And the Americans?”

“Of course they know. We have a solid report that the head of the DMLE in London actually tried to bait the President of MCUSA into dueling one of the girls. She was, unfortunately, unsuccessful, but the transcript’s a fun read.”

“Can anyone accuse us of doing anything untoward?”

“No sir. Not so far as I can tell. We’re allowed to determine for ourselves what constitutes use of magic within the Statue of Secrecy, and since the girls cover their tracks so nicely, we can’t be accused to being party to something that might violate our international agreements.”

“Is there anyone who has escaped us whom we need collected, but haven’t wanted to confront because we’re concerned about the firefight?”

“A couple.”

“Offer the girls an advanced run through our Auror academy next summer if they’re take a day and go kick down a couple of doors for us.”

“Sir, you know that’s like using a mallet to kill a fly, right?”

“Meh. It would be good for them and they might just really enjoy it. Tell them that we’ll pick up the tab for their next trip to Oslo in exchange for taking the thugs off the street.”

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Ten days later – a dive bar in Oslo, Norway – 10:30 pm**

“Got the list? Wand? Engagement ring? My love for you forever?”

Hermione smiled, squee’d, and then said, “Ready to do this?”

Harley nodded. “The rest of you ready? Stay out here, until we need you. This should take Hermione and me just a couple of minutes. They’re not going to like us, but that’s their problem. We’ll whistle for you when we get to processing everyone.”

“You sure you two can do this alone?” One of the magical troopers asked.

Hermione looked at him, conjured a Galleon, in violation of a bunch of ‘known’ conjuration laws, and tossed it to him. “Yea, we’re sure”

was all she said. The man gibbered in fear, before deciding that asking more questions was really stupid. 

Hermione and Harley were both dressed in black Romex-Kevlar body-armor, with their hair tied back. Each was wearing 3” heeled boots, slim, black paratrooper pants, and each carried a 40 cal. suppressed automatic pistol. Each had her main wand and her spare. 

When it was time, the rest of the assault team crouched down and waited. Hermione and Harley stood up and moved towards the door, which was known to be steel-reinforced. Igniting their blades, they made short work of it and proceeded to knock it inwards, in pieces.

The Norwegian head-banging music stopped as the door fell inwards. The moment Harley was in the door, Hermione followed, to watch her back. They called out, through their translation devices, “Police! No one move.”

A man stood and threw a knife. It stopped mid-air, reversed direction, and planted itself in the man’s chest. He fell over, dead. “WHAT PART OF NO ONE MOVE WAS UNCLEAR?” Harley yelled, “WE WILL KILL AS MANY OF YOU AS WE HAVE TO TONIGHT, OR YOU CAN DO THE SMART THING AND LINE UP, QUIETLY, WHEN WE CALL OUT YOUR NAME.”

She started calling out names. One by one, the wanted felons lined up. Hermione slapped magic-suppression cuffs on each person. When 90% of their target list was cuffed, Hermione called in the troops, who came in and quickly and efficiently marched the arrested out. 

“Where is  Dale Anders Cameroon Oestensvig?” Harley called out. “Come on, I don’t like to wait, and if I have dig him out, more of you are going to die. Clear?”

A shot rang out and the bullet just missed Hermone’s head. Whipping around, Harley saw the person with the pistol and in a single motion, cut the man’s arms off at the shoulder. Then she cut him in half. With her eyes blazing green, she looked about. Hermione could see the building madness in Harley’s eyes.

“Guys, my wife means it. She’s going to kill all of you now, unless you stupid fucks turn over the person we want.”

Even the least magical person in the bar could feel the danger that was building. Finally, something snapped and a 40 yr. old, with a beard and a receding hairline was pushed out, onto the floor. “Just take him, and leave the rest of us alone. Please.”

Harley let out an almighty kick into the man’s ribs, smashing several of them, before she threw the magic-suppressing manacles on him and dragged him out of the bar. Leaving behind two dead bodies, she thought, made it a pretty good night’s work. 

The de-brief took much longer than the entirety of the operation and made both girls realize just  _ why _ they left law enforcement to people like Amelia, who seemed to have the patience for paperwork. That both of their kills were declared ‘good’ and ‘self-defense’, was fine, but they wished that they hadn’t been pushed to kill them. 

As they were leaving the Norwegian National Security building in Oslo some 20 hours later, Sirius joined them. “How did it go?”

They looked at him and he could see in their eyes that they weren’t happy. “How many did you have to kill?”

“Two. One asshole who threw a knife and another who tried to kill Hermione with a pistol.”

“Any shift you can walk away from was a good shift. Remember that.”

“You were in law enforcement?”

“Yea, James, Lily, and I were all Aurors. Damn good ones. It’s been a long time, but I still remember working with your father and mother. They were unstoppable.”

Hermione could see the tears starting to form in Harley’s eyes and for the first time, Hermione realized that she had something that Harley would never have – a living set of parents to talk to and learn from. She had known it, but it hadn’t really come home to her until this moment. Throwing her arms around her wife, Hermione whispered to her and tried to reassure her that everything was going to be alright, and that yes, she loved her very, very much. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Sunday, August 30, 1992 - Diagon Alley, London**

The summer had gone too fast, by all accounts. There hadn’t been time to just vacation with Harley, the way Hermione wanted, or to read some of the most esoteric texts that they had pulled out of the Room of Forgotten things. More than that, they really hadn’t gotten to celebrate Harley’s birthday properly, the way that she wanted to for her love. Harley deserved love and support and it made Hermione sad to have opportunities to tell her wife how much she loves her slip by.

As they wandered the Alley with shopping lists in hand, Hermione felt a very different vibe. It was a particularly warm August day, so neither girl was wearing anything heavier than a short-sleeved, white-cotton blouse and knee-length skirt, along with 3” heels. What made the vibe different was that in every store they entered, people went quiet and moved out of their way, respectful of their space. No one reached out to touch them or crowed them. The girls spoke their needs quietly to shopkeepers and paid going rate for everything, accepting no discounts. Isabelle watched them, amazed at her daughter’s quiet grace and dignity. 

It was inevitable that they would run into Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, but this time, the interaction was very different. First, Isabelle stayed to the back and kept her mouth shut. Second, she watched as Lucius practically fawned over her daughter and daughter-in-law. 

It was Draco who saw them first and actually ran up to give them hugs, which the two girls accepted happily. Then Harley and Hermione saw Lucius and Narcissa and fell into deep, sweeping curtsies before rising. “Lord Malfoy, Lady Malfoy. Are you both well?”

“Far better now, for seeing you both, Lady Ross, Lady Dagworth.”

“You are very kind, Lord Malfoy. Thank you for your sweet note this summer and for your birthday gift. Whatever made you think of sending those chocolates? They were to die for!”

“That was my idea, you beautiful ladies. Lucius probably would have sent you some esoteric magical bauble, but I figured that chocolate would go over better.” 

Hermione and Harley both grinned. “Too right on that, I’m afraid.”

“How’s the broom holding up, Draco?”

“Oh, please don’t get him started” Lucius begged. “I am a Quidditch fan, but even I can stand to hear about in no more than 10 hrs. a day. The boy’s mad, I tell you. Obsessed.”

Harley laughed. “Well, I can show Draco the modified sloth-grip roll out of the Immelmann than I worked out this summer. He’ll love it – and he’ll probably be the only other person at the school who can do it.”

“Can Draco come shopping with us, Lord Malfoy? Would that be alright?”

Lucius shrugged. “If it’s alright with my beloved, it’s fine with me.”

Narcissa said, “No problem here. He’s in the best company possible.”

“Cool. Now, one other question, Lord Malfoy. Do you have some time to 

learn a new bit of magic that Hermione and I worked out?”

Lucius’ eyes went wide. Anything that these girls ‘just worked out’ had to be something really worthwhile or they wouldn’t have mentioned it. 

“I will make myself available, Lady Ross. Thank you.”

“Excellent. We will see you at the Three Broomsticks at half-five, if that’s ok.”

“See you then!”

And with that, Harley, Hermione, and Draco disappeared into the crowd, to shop, laugh, eat, and re-connect before the school-year began. 

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	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pursuant to the Berne Convention Implementation Act of 1988 and the Digital Millennium Copyright Act of 1998, 17 U.S.C. §§ 512, 120 1–1 205, this work is copyrighted 2019 with all rights expressly reserved by its author unless explicitly granted. No portion may be reproduced in any fashion, or hosted on any website, without the express written and notarized permission of the author. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own rights to any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of Joanne K Rowling, © 2003, to whom I am deeply indebted. The Harry Potter series is property of Joanne K. Rowling, and Arthur A. Levine Books, Inc., a division of Scholastic Press, Inc., © 2003. I make no money from any of this. WHATEVER CREATIVE MATERIAL IS LEFT IS MINE.
> 
> CONTENT Disclaimer: This story may contain sexually graphic and explicit material and as such, it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now, as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. If you are offended by sexually explicit stories, please read no further. These stories are just that, stories, and do not promote or condone the activities described herein.

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**From Chapter VII… **

It was Draco who saw them first and actually ran up to give them hugs, which the two girls accepted happily. Then Harley and Hermione saw Lucius and Narcissa and fell into deep, sweeping curtsies before rising. “Lord Malfoy, Lady Malfoy. Are you both well?”

“Far better now, for seeing you both, Lady Ross, Lady Dagworth.”

“You are very kind, Lord Malfoy. Thank you for your sweet note this summer and for your birthday gift. Whatever made you think of sending those chocolates? They were to die for!”

“That was my idea, you beautiful ladies. Lucius probably would have sent you some esoteric magical bauble, but I figured that chocolate would go over better.” 

Hermione and Harley both grinned. “Too right on that, I’m afraid.”

“How’s the broom holding up, Draco?”

“Oh, please don’t get him started” Lucius begged. “I am a Quidditch fan, but even I can stand to hear about in no more than 10 hrs. a day. The boy’s mad, I tell you. Obsessed.”

Harley laughed. “Well, I can show Draco the modified sloth-grip roll out of the Immelmann than I worked out this summer. He’ll love it – and he’ll probably be the only other person at the school who can do it.”

“Can Draco come shopping with us, Lord Malfoy? Would that be alright?”

Lucius shrugged. “If it’s alright with my beloved, it’s fine with me.”

Narcissa said, “No problem here. He’s in the best company possible.”

“Cool. Now, one other question, Lord Malfoy. Do you have some time to 

learn a new bit of magic that Hermione and I worked out?”

Lucius’ eyes went wide. Anything that these girls ‘just worked out’ had to be something really worthwhile or they wouldn’t have mentioned it. 

“I will make myself available, Lady Ross. Thank you.”

“Excellent. We will see you at the Three Broomsticks at half-five, if that’s ok.”

“See you then!”

And with that, Harley, Hermione, and Draco disappeared into the crowd, to shop, laugh, eat, and re-connect before the school-year began. 

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**Meeting – International Convention of Wizardry – August 30, 1992, Vienna, Austria**

The Supreme Mugwump of the IWC strode the hall of the Grande Palace distracted and angry. Angry, because he had been caught up short by the reports out of Norway about two Arch-Mages who had been seen playing catch with impossibly huge meteors and distracted by the fact that he was no longer the source of conversation. Everything was about these two new Arch-mages: Who were they? Where had they come from? Where had they learned how to manage such power? 

Albus stewed as he walked. He knew  _ exactly _ who the two girls were and where they had come from… at least he thought he did. As he turned the corner, to walk towards the doors of his office, he was caught off-guard by the presence of the senior representative from Norway, Max Manus. 

“We need to talk, Albus” the man said, perfunctorily. 

Albus looked at him, trying to figure out, by skimming the man’s thoughts, what was going on. Only, he was rebuffed in doing so, because he ran straight into rock-solid mental shields. 

“Of course, Max. Come with me to my office and we can have a cup, and talk.”   
The senior-most representative of the Norwegian magical delegation followed the Supreme Mugwump into his office and found himself a seat, across from the fireplace that dominated the main, outer office. 

Eventually tea was served and the two settled to business. “So, what brings you to me today, Max?”

“Not to put too fine a point on it, Albus, but you’ve got a problem. Your two young arch-mages have been putting on a show in my country and it has attracted attention. The Russians, the Americans, and the Chinese all want to know if you’re preparing for war on them.”

Albus looked at him, hard and found himself still frustrated by the man’s solid mental shields. Finally, he gave up and had to settle for political instinct. “Why, Max, would anyone have reason to believe that I, as Supreme Mugwump, would be preparing for war against anyone?”

“Albus, I’ll be blunt. Your war with Grindelwald didn’t end with him going to Nuremburg. The Russians have every reason to believe that you’d see an end to them, if it were possible, and the Chinese feel similarly. Even the Americans don’t fully trust you. Now you have to Arch-Mages at your fingertips, who can pull down hundred-meter long meteorites, weighing a half-a-million  _ tons _ !”

Albus sucked in a breath. He had no idea that the girls were capable of such things. It was terrifying. 

“And you know this for a fact, Max?”

“I’ve seen the fucking meteors! Hundreds of them in a field, all put there by your two arch-mages… and they were just practicing!”

“Practicing what, Max?”

“The girls told our people that they were just practicing their magical control; trying to figure out where their personal limits lie.”

“And?”

“They don’t know yet. They both said they’re getting stronger every year and they expect to double in power in the next eight years. Think about that.  _ Double _ in power.”

That was  _ not _ good news for Albus Dumbledore. On his best day, Albus knew that he wasn’t capable of pulling down meteors of anything even close to the size that the girls were handling with ease. “I hear your concern, Max, but there’s nothing I can do to reassure you. I am not now, nor have I ever been, planning or plotting for a war with anyone. I’ve fought my war. I’m done.”

“I will pass on your message, Albus. Hopefully, the great powers will see that you’re not acting against them and will calm down.”

“Tell them that cowardice becomes no one and that if they want to speak with me, all they have to do is knock on my door.”

“I will, Albus. In the meantime though, tell your two arch-mages that they’re making people nervous.”

Albus looked at him and tried to suppress his laughter. “Tell your contacts that if they’re worried about two young girls making war on them, then perhaps they ought to be thinking about what exactly they are doing that they think would provoke such a war and stop doing that thing.”

Max got the message.  _ If you’re doing something so incredibly dumb that even 12-year-olds are willing to go to war with you over it, then maybe you need to stop doing that thing.  _

“I will let them know, Albus. Thank you for your time.”

Albus nodded. “You’re welcome, Max. Take care of yourself.”

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**Monday, the 31** **st** ** of August - Malfoy Estate, Kielder Island, just north of Falstone, UK**

Lucius Malfoy was now firmly in the pocket of Harley Janel Ross, whether he knew it or not. The most recent piece of magic that he had learned from the Lady Ross was so astonishing and so subtle that he knew that even if the Dork Lard returned, he would have little to fear. The ability to transcend wards; to slip through even the mostly tightly woven defense was worth its weight in Gold – which was something else he was quickly accumulating. His most recent foray into a river in southern England had netted him over five hundred kilos of pure gold, worth $5,385,242 US dollars. Gold made many things easier, including building one’s defenses.

There were some things though that Lucius owned, of which he was no longer so proud. One of them, the diary of T. M. Riddle – Tomas Marvolo Riddle – belonged to the dark lord. Lucius realized that he no longer wanted the accursed thing in his house. It had to be gotten rid of and there was only one place where he could take it, with no questions asked. 

Making up his mind, Lucius made his way into his basement, through the hidden trap door, and down the steps into the sub-basement, where his wizard’s vault was hidden. It was a superbly complex bit of magic, that set the vault outside of the normal flow of time, but just a tic, enough so that if you didn’t know it was there, you’d never find it. He spoke the words that brought the vault into the present, and then set the combination that opened it. Finally, he pricked his thumb and pressed it to the door, proving that it was he who opened it. 

Lucius cleaned out the vault. Nothing in it would do his family any good and all of it was evil in one way or another. He didn’t want the taint of it associated with his family anymore. He had gold, he had magical power, he had respect. He was done with his past life and it was time to disassociate himself with those who thought that blood mattered. Lucius had seen that it didn’t and never would. This day was step one in making sure that his son could have a family name that meant something and stood for something, and not the stupidity of ‘blood purity’. 

After closing the now empty vault, Lucius made his way back to the ground floor of his house. He held onto the four items that he intended to take with him, so that he didn’t drop them or accidentally leave one behind. His son didn’t deserve to have to deal with the awful taint that accompanied each of the items he was carrying. Closing his eyes, the way the girls had just taught him, Lucius shimmered into nothingness and disappeared, only to re-appear silently, in Knockturn Alley. He made his way, quickly, to  Borgin and Burkes, entered the shop, and magicked the door closed behind him. 

The shopkeeper, Mr. Borgin, upon seeing him come in, began his usual bowing and scraping, until Lucius cut him off with a snarl that he had to work to conjure. “Enough of that. I’m not here to be fawned over. I have four items I would like to sell to you, for the amount of a silver sickle.”

Borgin, seeing an opportunity to make a massive profit, quickly grabbed a single silver sickle from his change-drawer, and passed it over. Lucius nodded, feeling massively relieved. “Good day.” Using the disguised method of Apparating that Hermione taught him, he opened up a portal and disappeared. Borgin’s jaw hit the ground as platinum-haired wizard disappeared in a silent flash of light that folded in on itself. No one was supposed to be able to Apparate through his wards! 

Lucius appeared again, just inside the Three Broomsticks, and immediately ordered a shot of the best-aged Rum that Rosmerta had on hand. As she handed it across the bar, Lucius slipped her an entire Galleon.

“Keep it. I just lost ten years of stupid. I needed this.”

Rosmerta nodded. “I hear the Lady Ross has taken a liking to you, so you’re alright in my book, Lord Malfoy.”

Lucius tossed back the shot and looked at her. “It’s because of her and what she’s done for my family that I had the courage to do what I did today. Should have done it ten years ago.”

“Well, good on ya, I say. I love those girls. They’ve done more for the kids at the school than any two that I’ve ever met.”

“I know. They’ve taken to my son. No idea why.”

“I’ll tell you why, Lord Malfoy. Your son’s got courage. There’s something in that boy that’s only recently come out. He’s smart and he’s the second best flyer at the school. Even the pro teams are starting to watch him.”

That shook Lucius wide awake. Rosmerta smiled. She knew she had his attention now. “Your son does things on that damn broom of his that are just this side of nuts, but he’s fast, courageous, kind, and decent. He, Harley, and Hermione do their weekend shopping down here together, when Harley’s in the mood to shop.”

“What do you mean that Draco, Harley, and Hermione do their weekend shopping down here? First-years aren’t given Hogsmeade privileges.”

Rosmerta smiled. “Well, you see Lord Malfoy, Lady Ross has a dubious view of those restrictions, and since she’s First of the Twenty eight, doesn’t really seem to care all that much for some of the school’s rules. Since Hermione’s her wife and Draco’s their best friend, well… they chum together, despite whether Minerva likes it or not.”

Lucius snorted his laughter. “The Deputy Headmistress isn’t amused?”

“No siree bob, but the rest of the students understand and the shopkeepers, we’ll, we’ve agreed between ourselves to keep an eye out for the three of them, if they’re around. We keep the press and the riff raff away from them. So far, there haven’t been any issues. Your son’s a good boy. Respectful and quiet. The girls, they’re the same. Dignified, respectful. Always pay top dollar for everything. They don’t accept discounts simply because of who they are. They dress carefully. Never shame themselves with inappropriate outfits. Even the most rabid pure-bloods don’t have a single word to say against them.”

Lucius looked at her, amazed at the litany of good that she had expounded about his son and his son’s friends. It made him incredibly proud. “I’m glad my son has behaved himself. He treats the girls properly?”

“Yes, sir. He holds doors for them, pulls out chairs for them, and always looks them in the eyes when he’s talking to them. Very dignified. You and your wife have done right by him, that’s for sure.”

Lucius took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. There was something overwhelming about hearing that your child is a good person and Lucius was feeling that in spades. “A word of advice, Rosmerta? If there is ever trouble, get all the kids away. Let Harley and Hermione handle it.”

“But they’re just young girls? How can they be expected to do anything?”

“Go up to the Castle some afternoon when they’re holding a dueling tournament. You’ll get to see just what those two girls can do. I am a fully qualified wizard, right?”

“But of course, Lord Malfoy. Everyone knows how powerful you are!”

“First of all, thank you for the flattery. Secondly, in comparison to either of those girls, I’m nothing by a flickering candle. I’ve learned more magic from  _ them _ in the last year than I learned in the previous ten.”

Rosmerta gave him a cock-eyed look, as it to say, “if you say so”. 

“Just trust me on this, Rosmerta. Even a year ago. I was arrogant enough to think that no twelve-year-old could beat an adult. Then I saw a fully grown Auror scared shitless because he had made the mistake of threatening Hermione Dagworth-Ross. Harley had him off the ground, by the throat, wandlessly. Trust me when I say that the best thing to do if trouble breaks out, is to get the kids away and let those two girls handle it.”

Clearly, she didn’t believe him, but that was alright. “Now, I’ll be on my way.”

“Give me a hug you scoundrel and then go to your wife. Tell her I send my hugs to her too.”

Lucius gave the beautiful woman a hug and then went out the door, whistling. 

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**Hogwarts Express – September 1, 1992**

After settling in (meaning completely reconfiguring the car to suit their privacy), Harley and Hermione slipped off to sleep, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Dobby was set to watch their privacy, and the door was alarmed as a further precaution. Up and down the train, though, students were in search of the famous couple and not all of their motives were savory. 

None of the students knew that there were more than a dozen Aurors on the train, invisible to most forms of detection, assigned to make sure that the train was safe, and that no one thought to rile the couple in the first train-car. It had been decided that keeping them safe and happy was well worth the cost of Auror’s time, since the cost of them  _ not _ being safe and happy wasn’t something that anyone wanted to calculate. Not after the raid on the bar in Norway, or the fairly spectacular display of catch-and-toss that the girls had done with more than twenty, ½ million-ton meteors at the end of the summer.

Even Amelia Bones, known for her stoicism, had blanched and almost peed herself when she read the reports of the girls playing catch with rocks the size of very large houses, but infinitely heavier. 

Four hours pass while the girls sleep, cuddled together in the privacy of their car, unaware of the care being taken to make sure that they remain undisturbed. When the train hits the 1pm shift-change in Glasgow, Hermione finally stirs.  _ Coffee _ .  _ Need coffee.  _

_ “Dobby?” _

_ !Pop!  _ Yes, mistress ‘Mione?”

“Dobby, love, can you get us two huge, like.. 30 once containers of hot coffee while we’re here in Glasgow? You know how we like it.”

“Dobby gets Mistress her coffee.”

“Love you, Dobby. Thank you.”

“Mistress is too good to Dobby. Dobby not knowing what to do with so much love.”

Hermione laughed. “You’ll figure it out, Dobby. Maybe Winky will finally settle down with you?”

Dobby rolled his eyes. “Seriously, you’re going to have to elf-up if you’re going to make her your girl, Dobby.”

“Dobby goes and gets your coffee, Mistress.”

“Was that Dobby?” Harley said sleepily in her ear.

Hermione turned and kissed her, full-on. “Yes, love. He’s gone to get coffee for us, since we’re in Glasgow for shift-change.”

Then she shivered. “Is it me or is it freezing?”

Then she saw frost on the window. Frost that hadn’t been there moments ago. 

“Fuck! Dementors!” Harley hated Dementors. They messed with her head something awful and gave her nightmares. Isabelle had trained the two of them to deal with them by using the  _ Patronus  _ Charm, since they were such a problem for Harley. Hermione and Harley looked at each other, kissed deeply for a moment, and then unleashed their Patroni. “ _ GO. Destroy them all” _

The two Patroni, a Stag and a doe, chased out of their compartment and down along the length of the train, destroying Dementors as they went along. Then the fight was taken outside and along the side of the train, where the Dementors had congregated to try to find a way inside. The two Patroni, which were then joined by others, pinned the Dementors together and began killing them; rending them to bone and dust. Some of the Dementors tried to get away, but they were hunted down and torn apart, until there was nothing left by scraps of cloth. 

The head of the Auror crew, shaken and both mentally and magically exhausted, looked around, trying to see who had conjured the solid patroni that had done so much damage to the Dementors. When the two girls stepped off the train to look around, he saw them. They seem unfazed by the experience, even though he was sure they had cast the two Patroni that had destroyed most of the Dementors, and he approached them and said as much. 

The girls smiled and quietly demurred, not wanting to cause a ruckus. The two thanked him for his attention and his courtesy, and then returned to their train-car where, they both hoped, Dobby had their coffee waiting.

Except for a stop by the lunch cart, Hermione and Harley remained undisturbed for the rest of the day, which was a very good thing, since the Patronus charm did, in fact, take a lot of energy. When the train pulled into the Hogsmeade station, Hermione and Harley disembarked, looked around, and seeing that everything was more or less alright, held hands and disappeared.

This, by itself, caused quite a ruckus, since the Auror team was charged with keeping them safe and no one knew where they were. It finally occurred to some to call for their house-elf, who seemed to know where his mistresses were at all times. Susan Bones looked at Dobby and he returned her gaze, steadily. “Why does Mistress Bones call Dobby?”

“Because we don’t know where your mistress has gone and we’re worried about her.”

“Oh. Mistress Harley is in her new dorm-room with Mistress Grangey”

“Thank you, Dobby. That’s what we needed to know.”

Dobby disappeared and the head of the Auror group ordered the step-down in alert, now that their primary had been located. “Thank you, Lady Bones, for your timely help.”

Susan curtsied, as tradition dictated, and then said, “You’re welcome, sir. Happy to make things easier.”

The Auror knew his traditions and bowed formally to her, since she was scion of House Bones and the courtesy was due her rank and status.

As the students made their way to the carriages, there was significant talk about the Dementors, and about two absolutely bad-ass Patroni that kicked the shit out of all ten of them, until they were all destroyed… which was something that hadn’t been thought possible until people actually saw it with their own eyes. 

In the Auror ranks, the talk was of who had sent them and how did he/she/they find so many Dementors to control outside of Azkaban. The professional speculating kept coming back to one or two people in the current Administration and one was thought more likely than the other. The Boss,  Joseph “the judge” Dredd, knew what he would be doing when he returned to London. Going straight to Amelia Bones and explaining the situation, while asking for an arrest warrant. 

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**Hogwarts Great Hall – 6:30 pm. Just before the Sorting**

The students of Hogwarts had decided to put on a show – which really meant that the girls decided and the boys didn’t have much choice but to go along with it. Each house group was dressed in its house-colors, but done in the finest materials available. All the girls wore 3” heels and wore her personal house-affiliation as a badge over her heart. Slytherin entered first, with its girls dressed in gorgeous silver and deepest-green. Then Hufflepuff, in black against muted yellow. They were followed by Ravenclaw, in vibrant blue-and-bronze and finally, Gryffindor, in brick red against gold. All the boys entered as a group, dressed in all black, except for their ties, which showed off their house associations. Each boy stood next to a girl, waiting for the signal for everyone to be seated. The benches had all been replaced with high-backed chairs, that were magicked to make sure everyone sat at the same height and could look each other in the eye. At the signal, the boys all held out chairs for the girls, who demurely sat, and then waited for the boys to join them. 

Finally Hermione and Harley entered. A hush fell over the room and Harley led Hermione to the head of Gryffindor table, where the two kissed, before Harley held out a seat for Hermione. When the two were seated, the procession of teachers began. The head-boy and girl entered together, and took up their seats at the head table, as was their right. Then all of the professors entered, with Albus Dumbledore entering last. The room stood as he walked to his place. His smile seemed genuine for the welcome. “Please, please sit.”

As one, everyone sat down.  The new firsties were about to enter and everyone wanted to see who was in the new class. There were fifteen boys and sixteen girls in the new class, which made it a substantial class. 

Harley was smiling as the new students entered. They were all shown off by his or her own personal spotlight, which hovered above the student’s head. Each student walked in with a staff that had a large, egg-sized crystal at the top of it that radiated with power. 

Little Ginny Weasley’s staff glowed with particular power, bringing everyone’s attention upon her as she was sorted. There was a hue and cry as she was sorted to Gryffindor, since she was the first Weasley girl born in four hundred years.

Morag Johnson went to Slytherin, which welcomed the little witch with celebration. Luna Lovegood, the great granddaughter of the famed Seer, Celestia Lovegood, was sorted to Ravenclaw, where she was welcomed with muted celebration. Colin Creevey went to Gryffindor – something that made Harley nervous. 

Christian Harper went to Hufflepuff, as Gale and Wendy Grabeau. Kim Chong went to Ravenclaw, as did Michael Rossi. Violetta Bulstrode, who was named for her great-grandmother, went to Slytherin. Melania Macmillan’s great granddaughter, Kay, went to Ravenclaw and Druella Rosier’s granddaughter, Callidora, went to Slytherin. 

Harley’s attention started to drift as she watched the sorting. She wanted, more than anything, to retreat to her bed with Hermione, and think through the day with her. Someone had sent the Dementors after them and she really wanted to know who that was. She also wanted to know what was going on with Sirius’ case. Why hadn’t he been exonerated by now? Hermione’s 13 th birthday was the 19 th . What was she supposed to do for her wife? Should she take Hermione home to her parents to celebrate? Or use the Room of Lost things to create a special birthday for her? Or should she take Hermione to Paris or Prague or something, to celebrate with her, just the two of them? It wasn’t like she was limited by money. The interest she was making on a monthly basis so far exceeded her meager needs for a year that it really didn’t matter what she spent. 

As she thought about her problems, others were watching her. One in particular. Gilderoy Lockheart. The newly installed DADA professor. Eventually, Hermione nudged Harley. “We’re being watched.”

Harley turned her eye towards the man and used what Legilimency she did know to burrow into the man’s thoughts. It didn’t take long for her to figure out what he was all about. Finally, she had seen enough. She turned to Hermione and said quietly, “His name is Gilderoy Lockhart. He’s supposed to be the new DADA professor, but he’s a fraud and a liar. Question is, do I call him out now or what until class tomorrow?” Hermione thought about that, and about how all of the students would react. 

“Up to you, love. Tonight or tomorrow… I guess it really doesn’t matter.” Giving Harley the option kept her from getting into a snit: a state of being into which Harley was likely to fall if denied what she would otherwise reasonably perceive was her right to make a choice. If Harley had a personality weakness, that was it. She hated being denied the right to make choices for herself. Isabelle had even warned Hermione about it. 

“I’ll deal with him tomorrow then. I don’t want to bother everyone tonight. But… let me go tell the Headmistress, so she knows what’s coming.”

Hermione worked on finishing her dinner while Harley got up, walked over to where Minerva was sitting, and had a quick word with her. Minerva’s reaction was predictable. She took off her glasses, rubbed the bridge of her nose, and the shook her head, before passing a note down to the Headmaster:

**We’re going to have to find another new DADA prof. This one’s a fraud, according to Harley, and she’s going to call him out tomorrow. **

Albus sank back in his chair and wondered just why he hadn’t taken the opportunity to retire when it had presented itself. He was dealing with a recalcitrant staff, a pair of arch-magi who didn’t give a hang what he thought, and a world that was changing around him, fast. 

_ Oh yea… Tommy.  _ Albus hated the fact that the dark lord had refused to die all those years ago, but the evidence was incontrovertible. Quirinius had been possessed by the dark lord’s shade. Nothing else would have killed the body quite that way. That meant that Riddle had created soul-pieces, at least three, but probably five, to keep himself alive. He, Albus, couldn’t retire until the bastard was dead. Life sucked. Paperwork sucked. 

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**Hogwarts School DADA class, the next morning - Wed., Sept. 2** **nd**

Harley was feeling mulish and really didn’t want to have to be the executioner, but since there was no one else who could step up (well, Hermione could, but she just wanted Harley to be happy), it was left to Harley to do the thing properly. 

**When the whole class was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. He reached forward, picked up Neville Longbottom’s copy of ** **Travels with Trolls** **, and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front. “Me,” he said, pointing at it and winking as well. “Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly’s Most-Charming-Smile Award — but I don’t talk about that. I didn’t get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!” He waited for them to laugh; a few people smiled weakly. “I see you’ve all bought a complete set of my books — well done. I thought we’d start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about — just to check how well you’ve read them, how much you’ve taken in —” **

**\- Harry Potter and Chamber of Secrets, pg. 99**

“You’re a fraud. And you have no business teaching here.” Harley’s voice was clear and unmistakable, as she stood to confront the smiling fool. 

Gilderoy was caught up short. “And who are you, Miss?”

Harley’s hand swept the room and all of the desks were banished to the walls. Hermione made sure all of the students were safe. 

“I am the  _ Lady _ Harley Janel Ross, First of the Twenty Eight, and I am an Arch-Mage. I say that you’re a fraud, a liar, a coward, and that you have no business teaching here. I challenge you to a duel, no limits, right now, right here.”

No one knew that the Headmaster was in the back of the classroom, invisible and watching. He watched as Hermione casually threw up a Mastery-level  _ Invictus _ shield, which would protect against everything by the Unforgivables. 

Gilderoy was trapped. He had nowhere to go. He either had to accept the challenge, or leave the school in disgrace, which would be ruinous to his book sales. 

“Fine. You want a duel, you can deal with this!” and he threw his most powerful,  _ Obliviation _ charm at her. Harley stepped out of its way, and then smiled cruelly. 

In less than ten seconds, he was stripped naked, beaten, bloody, and screaming for his mother. Harley turned towards the back of the room. “You see enough yet, Headmaster?”

Dropping his invisibility, Albus looked at the naked man on the floor and then at Harley. “Was the last bit absolutely necessary?”

Harley nodded. “Yes, and you know exactly why, too.”

“Fine. I’ll have him out of here in an hour. Since you’re the one who’s cost me yet another DADA teacher, you two girls get to teach this class until I find a replacement.”

Harley had sort-of been expecting that, so she nodded. “Ok. But only if you administer the tests. I don’t want to be accused of being unfair or biased.”

Albus nodded. “Agreed. You tell me the subjects and I’ll proctor the tests.”

Hermione couldn’t help but grab her wife and kiss her. “Proud of you”, she whispered. 

“Thanks, love.”

Harley and Hermione looked around. The rest of the kids were looking at them, expectantly. Harley had an idea. “Line up. Two rows, facing each other please.”

The kids scrambled to comply. “We’re going to play a form of tag, only you’re not going to be using your wands. You have to imagine the magic happening and then you have to direct it with your will.”

Hermione smiled. She knew exactly what Harley was teaching them to do:  _ visualize _ . It was really hard to do at first, until you got it, and then it became easier and easier. “Hermione, front and center.”

Hermione jumped to answer Harley’s call and soon found herself showing the class what a paint-ball looked like. “Hermione, cast that paint-ball at Gilderoy’s head on the wall. No movement. Just will.” The paintball lept from Hermione’s hand and smacked Gilderoy's picture, right between the eyes, leaving a dripping yellow streak. 

“This paint is completely removable, so don’t worry about getting it on you. Of course, the point is to  _ not _ get it on you, but rather to paint your opponent. At the end of class, the winner gets a perfect, five-carat diamond as a prize.”

Hermione smiled. She and Harley had several bags of them now. Enough to make necklaces of them, strung together.  _ Hmmm. That sounds pretty. Maybe for my mom? _

Doing what Harley asked, the students began visualizing the paintballs that Hermione had shown them. Most were successful on the first try, but some needed some private encouragement and words of help. At the end of the class though, everyone had done the task successfully and had used the conjured paintballs to hit not just each other, but targets around the room that Harley pointed out. Sally Yates, one of the transfers from the London Day School, won the diamond, which caused her to squeal with joy. 

Finally, a couple of the students fired paintballs at Harley, to see if they could catch her off-guard. One even hit her target – the back of Harley’s head. Hermione watched, giggling, as Harley conjured a very large bucket of paint and dumped it on the offending student.

“Rule number one. Though shall not even think about attacking your teacher. Rule number two. Hermione is off-limits. Period. Rule number three: Intentionally trying to hurt another student in this class will get you thrown out of school. By me. Are we all clear?”

There was some grumbling and Harley made eye contact with those individuals. “Are we all clear?” She asked again. “Yes, Lady Ross.” The group responded, more forcefully. 

“Good. Hermione and I will teach you all what we can. We’re going to start tomorrow with a new form of apparition that she and I have discovered. Most all of you should be able to do it. It has some benefits to it, including being virtually silent. It also passes right through wards. I’m going to teach it to every class and every student in the school. You’re going to teach it to your brothers and sisters, if they’ve already been graduated.”

The students looked at the two of them, amazed, and then burst into applause. “Thank you, but save that until you’ve learned what we have to teach you. I expect you to crush the OWL’s next winter. They lean heavily on the practical, so we’re going to pull out all the stops and teach you as much as we can. And you’re going to practice, RIGHT?”

“Yes, Lady Ross!” The answer came back as one voice.

“Good. Now, get out of here and get to your next class. Shew!”

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Harley and Hermione’s next class was transfiguration, and they beat feet to get there; sliding into their seats with about a minute to spare. Third year was supposed to be devoted to inanimate-to-animate and animate-to-inanimate. In both cases, it wasn’t so much a mass transfiguration as a charm that tried to convince the universe that the object in question really was something else. It was basically integrating an illusion with a very powerful  _ confundus _ charm that worked, for a period of time, to convince the viewer that this thing, that started off as this other thing, really is a thing. 

Whereas inanimate-to-inanimate was easy, because you weren’t trying to fool the mind of the thing being transfigured, the higher the order of animal involved (the smarter the creature), the more difficult the transfiguration becomes, because the witch or wizard involved has to work harder to force the confundus charm to work. 

If, for instance, a witch or wizard tried to transfigure a centaur, the transfiguration would most likely fail and not just because a centaur is an inherently magical being, but because a centaur is a really, really smart one as well. It would take someone of Dumbledore’s power (or greater) to make such a transfiguration work. 

Fortunately, third year transfiguration was all about successfully visualizing and then performing such transfigurations. 

It took Hermione slightly less than three minutes to do both transfigurations (European Hedgehog -> pin cushion and tea-pot -> tortoise). Harley did both, with her eyes closed, and just listening to Hermione’s directions. 

When the girls were finished, Minerva glanced over at their work, sniffed, marked her book with O’s for both girls, and then pressed on for the rest of the class. “Now, class. We’re going to push on, since I assume all of you have successfully done the work assigned for today.” Looking around and seeing nodding heads, she went on, “I told you that we were going to significantly pick up the pace this year. The goal is to  _ crush _ the OWL’s next winter. That means in every class, you’re going to be pushed. You’ve all completed the assignment for today, so we’re done with that. The next challenge is to understand what you’ve just done and to find new ways to apply it.”

And so it went. Hermione and Harley left her class feeling, if not ebullient, at least excited about what was coming. Their next class was History of Magic – not a course that either girl liked very much, but at least it was being taught by a real, living and breathing teacher, of whom they could ask questions. It was also their most humbling class, because it was the only class in which both girls ran up against the limits of their experience, power, and knowledge. Neither girl was old enough or smart enough to dominate the class and neither was wise enough to see the ramifications of some of the things that were being taught. In other words, they were just like everyone else. They really liked that. It felt good to feel normal. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Potions was the last class of the morning and they were again surprised by the teacher. He was a short, round man named Horace Slughorn. He introduced himself and then got right to it. 

“My name is Horace Slughorn. Albus asked me to come back, since you lost your last potions-master.”

Hermione raised her hand and waited to be acknowledged. When he finally did, she said, “Are you going to have 7 th -years helping you? We did really well under the last assistant-teacher we had.”

“Miss?”

“Lady Hermione Dagworth-Ross née Granger, sir.”

Horace did a double-take, then a triple-take. “Are you really?”

“Yes, sir. And this is my wife, Harley Janel Ross, the Lady Ross.”

Albus hadn’t warned him. Not a single  _ fucking clue _ .  _ Asshole.  _ Horace was, after all, a collector of people. He liked to know and be known. It had worked in his favor over the years, allowing him to live and travel in great comfort. Knowing the Lady Ross! And the Lady Dagworth?! Those were contacts for which he could not otherwise beg, borrow, or steal. 

There was tittering all around the class as the other students recognized a fan-boy when they saw it. Horace Slughorn was all abother about the fact that the two most powerful witches in English magical society were sitting in his class. Hermione’s hand went up. “Yes, Lady Dagworth?”

“Sir, I’m still waiting an answer from you regarding whether or not you’re planning on using 7 th year students as assistant teachers. It worked out pretty well for us last year and most of us would like to continue that way.”

Horace looked at her and wondered what she was trying to say. Finally he asked, “Do you not want me to teach you directly? Is there something wrong that I should know about?”

Hermione was ready for that question. “No sir. We just figured you’d want to focus on the 6 th and 7 th year students, so that you could personally get them ready for their NEWTS, leaving teaching us to one or more of the 7 th year students who wanted the job and the money.”

“I can do that?”

“Yes, sir. That’s what the Deputy Headmistress set up last year. It worked out really well. We crushed our exams.”

Horace looked at her. He had never heard of such a set-up, and thought that it made eminent sense. “Thank you, Lady Dagworth. I will investigate that today, with your recommendation.”

Hermione nodded and sat down. Harley took her hand and squeezed it gently.  _ “I love you.”  _ Harley said quietly.

The room went quiet for a moment, as everyone turned his or her attention towards the two. Fay Dunbar hissed, “Hey you two. You’re glowing.”

The two magi blushed, but didn’t try to pull back their feelings for each other. Horace looked at them. He wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly what the fey light around them meant. He had never seen it before, but he knew what it meant. It was actually considered an honor in many countries to be in the presence of a couple so bonded and so in love that their magic showed itself in sympathetic light. The Italians had a name for it. The  _ Nimbus Lumens Amore.  _ “The Light of Love”.

Finally he said to the class, but quietly, “It’s a beautiful thing, to see it first-hand. We are lucky to have such love in our presence.”

One thing that no one else knew was that Hermione’s love acted like a doorway for Harley’s power. In Hermione’s presence, and feeling her love, Harley felt like there wasn’t anything she couldn’t do. She was practically vibrating with power.

Standing up, Harley walked over to the wall of the Castle and put her hand on the wall. Focusing on spreading out her power, Harley began to push. Everyone in the Castle could feel it: The feeling that they were suddenly standing inside a massive battery that was being charged. Albus Dumbledore felt it most acutely, since he controlled the wards for the school. Someone was dumping massive amounts of raw magical power into the school. The elves felt it and fed off it. So did every other magic creature in the school, including the fairies. 

It took more than three minutes for Harley to bleed off the excess magic that she had unwittingly gathered. Once she was done, she blushed with real embarrassment before apologizing to the class and sitting down quietly. 

Slughorn found his voice after a moment’s reflection and said, “Nothing to apologize for, Lady Ross. We are all, at one time or another, at the mercy of our magic.”

“Now then, let us begin with what is expected this year.” And dove into the syllabus for the class, asking them to take notes as the progressed in the second half of the school year’s curriculum. By the time the class was over, they had covered all the expectations for the year and what they would be doing week-to-week. Hermione thought that was great, since she knew they’d be hip-deep in their own projects. She was still trying to figure out how to lock a weather-effect into a distinct area, like a chess board or a miniature train board or something as large as a hallway. Harley was still trying to figure out a way to take sounds that have been captured electronically and port them into the magical world. Both were daunting tasks.

By the time they were finished with class, it was time for lunch, and they were hungry. Breakfast had been a dash-in-dash-out kind of event for them, and even with sufficient coffee, it hadn’t been enough. Now they were sitting back, enjoying the rich beef stew that the elves had prepared for lunch and the crusty French bread that went with it, which they all used to sop up the juices. 

The two were just finishing up their lunches when the great doors opened and the Lady Amelia Bones, along with six Aurors, walked in. Amelia was dressed for battle, so Hermione and Harley pushed back from the table and took out their wands. If things got ugly, they wanted to be ready. 

Hermione and Harley saw the head of the DMLE in conversation with Minerva and the Headmaster. A piece of paper was handed across and more conversation ensued. Finally, the six Aurors moved towards them. Hermione and Harley apparated to the center aisle and ignited their swords. The Aurors stopped cold. They knew, apparently, what the light-swords could do. With her other hand, Harley started gathering magic; ready to send the six Aurors somewhere they weren’t going to like. 

Susan Bones ran to Aunt and said something, low and furious. Her aunt replied with something equally furious. Harley wondered what the hell was going on that would cause such a reaction. One of the Aurors started to move and that was the trigger. Harley let go with the magic she had been gathering and in an instant, all six Aurors were gone. This threw a spanner into the works for the head of the DMLE, who cursed and went for her own wand. The moment it came up, Hermione closed the distance and, with a flick of her sword, cut the woman’s wand in half.

“That could have been your wrist. Be grateful. And next time, bring more men. You’re going to need far more than six to take us.”

“I’m trying to help!”

“Not by bringing a squad of goons with you. And you can’t arrest us without a warrant signed by two thirds of the Wizengamot. You don’t have one. Now leave, or we won’t be so nice about this next time.”

Harley waved a hand and the woman disappeared. 

A great cheer erupted from the students. Harley and Hermione held hands and then bowed to the assembly. When it finally died down, they made their way to their seats, where desert awaited them, along with another large mug of coffee. “Where did you send them?” Hermione whispered.

“Moscow. Naked.”

For whatever reason, Hermione thought that was funny and she enjoyed the laughter. It diffused the tension that had come with the moment.

“Going to have to talk to the Headmistress. Want to know what was on that piece of paper.”

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Amelia Bones was furious. Not just because she had been sent, naked, back to her office, but because of her wand, which was now two useless pieces of wood. She was going to have to use her back-up wand, which never worked as well for her, just to get clean and dressed!

_ God damn those little bitches! And who were they to tell her, the head of the DMLE, that she was going to need a different warrant! First of the Twenty-eight, you stupid slut,  _ came the reply in her mind.  _ That’s who she is, and she’s right. You tried to cut corners, in order to expedite a process. Well, that will teach you! _

Now she was facing angry Arch-Mages, a furious niece who had come really close to slapping her, and six Aurors, who were somewhere on the planet, but she had no idea where.  _ Could this day possibly get any worse? _

She should have known that asking that question was stupid and dangerous. She had just finish re-dressing when their was a knock on her door. “Yes, come in”

It was a tall-ish Goblin that Amelia recognized. “Dredd?”

“Yes, Lady Bones. I am Dredd. I bear a message for you and for your government.”

She handed over an ornate scroll.

Amelia knew the protocol. “Dredd, on my honor, I accept your delivery of this message and thank you for your service. May your fortunes rise high and may your enemies tremble before you.”

“Good day, Lady Bones. May your fortunes follow your honor.”

With that, the Goblin disappeared into thin air, silently. Amelia watched the space where the Goblin had been and realized that she had seen that dematerialization before. _Fucking Arch-mages!_ _Doing a human version of a Goblin magic. No wonder my wards couldn’t protect against it._

Amelia collapsed in her chair. She knew she had to open the scroll. It had a time-stamp on it. Her honor was tied directly to how quickly she opened it. She cut her thumb with her personal Athame and then pressed it to the scroll, where it was indicated for her to do so. The scroll unraveled by itself and she held it up, so that she could read it. 

It took about one minute to get through enough of the scroll to cause her to start swearing, loudly.  _ FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK AND DOUBLE-FUCK _ . 

“JANICE!” 

The young woman who had served her so ably for the last several years came into her office almost running. “Janice. Floo your opposite at Fudge’s office. Tell him that I have to see him right now and it can’t wait. Then call Dumbledore and tell him the same. Suggest we meet at Fudge’s office.”

“What’s it about? They’re going to want to know.”

“The Goblins of Gringotts have officially withdrawn from the Treaty of 1789. They’re demanding wand-rights and equality throughout our system, including in the courts and in commerce. They want the right to own property above ground.”

Janice paled. She knew that if the Goblins got wand-rights back, they would have more than 90 million souls under arms and that it would tip the balance of power in magical society significantly. “I’ll get on it right now. Say… 30 minutes?”

“That will do. Just make it happen.”

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Thirty minutes later, Cornelius Fudge, Albus Dumbledore, and Amelia Bones gathered in Fudge’s office. She handed them copies of the scroll, for expediency’s sake. While neither man was stupid, Fudge wasn’t as fast on the uptake as Albus, who saw the issue immediately. 

Amelia began, “They’re premising their withdrawal from the Treaty on the grounds that we have willfully and systematically denied prisoners their rights as vault-holders, over the last twenty-five years. In their eyes, that makes any excuse that we might come up with as invalid and therefore grounds to withdraw from the treaty. They are going to immediately begin arming their citizens with wands and teaching Goblin Magic to all who can learn it in the Goblin nation. Further, they are impounding Ministry assets until we change our laws to make Goblin ownership of property above ground legal. They’ve also given us 96 hours, starting now, to make this happen.”

Fudge slumped back in his chair and even Albus looked tired and old. “We’ve put off these issues far longer than we had any right to expect, so the fact that they’re coming back to bite us in the ass shouldn’t be a wild surprise. I had hoped as Chief Warlock to not have to deal with this, at least this year, abut we seldom get what we want and even more rarely get what we need.”

“Do you have the votes to make this pass, Albus?”

“As it stands? No. Not unless you can convince our two new mages to have their proxies vote with us.”

“Great” Amelia said petulantly, “Just what we need. Give those two little bitches more power than they already have.”

Albus actually laughed. “Now, now. Amelia. Just because you got chased out of the Castle this morning, for failing to get the proper warrant, doesn’t mean you get to sulk about those two girls. Be grateful that no one was hurt in the misunderstanding. You could be missing a hand right now.”

“Cost me my main wand! The little bitch actually held me at sword point and told me to go the fuck away.”

“What did you do, Amelia?! What dumb-ass thing would make Hermione Ross do that?”

Amelia hated admitting to stupid, especially in front of the Minister for Magic. “I didn’t get a warrant for the girls’ arrest from the Wizengamot, as I should have, to compel their testimony regarding Sirius Black. Instead… I signed one myself.”

“You WHAT?”

Cornelius let his genuine anger out. “I should fire you for that, Amelia. That’s way beyond the pale and you know it.”

“You want to fire me… go ahead. I probably deserve it, but don’t see how it forwards your cause.”

“Consider yourself reprimanded, Amelia. I’m docking your pay for three months, as my power as Minister to see justice done allows me.”

Amelia took the hit and said nothing. She knew she deserved worse. As it was, she was going to have to deal with very angry Aurors, when they eventually turned up, from wherever Harley had sent them. She was grateful that she had been sent back to her office, even it was naked. She didn’t have body-shame, and nakedness wasn’t that big a deal in the magical world. Her Aurors, however, could have been sent anywhere – even to the middle of the ocean and she worried about them. 

“The only way, Amelia, to get the Lady Ross and the Lady Dagworth-Ross to testify regarding Sirius Black is to ask the Wizengamot to compel their testimony or ask them. If you try to arrest them again on your own hook, they’ll likely kill you. I think your niece would be very unhappy with you if you pushed it to that point.”

Amelia looked at Albus and thought about that. Susan had come very close to slapping her and she had never seen such fire in her nieces’ eyes – and frankly, that hurt, since she had always had a very good relationship with her niece. 

She also knew that there was nowhere that she could go that the girls couldn’t drop a meteor on her. It was a force against which no magical power on Earth could defend. She would die, regretting to her last breath, the fact that she had antagonized Hermione Dagworth and Harley Ross. 

“Alright. We’ll do it the hard way.”

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Two days later, the ‘hard way’ became apparent. Amelia Bones came back to Hogwarts, at lunch, and made her way to the head-table. This time she was met at sword-point, because neither Hermione nor Harley had any patience. She also saw that her niece had her sword drawn and that actually hurt. 

“I told you not to come back here without a warrant.” Hermione seethed with anger. “You’re really asking to die, aren’t you?”

Given that Amelia wasn’t more than a couple of inches taller than Hermione, and that Hermione was wearing 3” heels, they were almost the same height. That put Hermione’s wand-tip at the base of Amelia’s throat. 

“My mother said I could trust you. I’m not sure that I can, but I’d answer Hermione’s question, if I were you. She wants to run you through and I’m not of a mind to stop her.”

Everyone was silent. Not a single hand moved, anywhere in the Hall. Every person present knew that to interrupt was to give one or more of the girls cause to do something painful and no one wanted that. Even the teachers watched, tense. They didn’t want to see Amelia hurt. Most present really liked her and wanted to see her successful. But, they all knew that Amelia had again gone and done something stupid. She had come into the lion’s den looking very much like something to chew on. A ‘bone’ to gnaw on. 

Amelia knelt. She really didn’t have a choice. It was debasing, but it was the one play that might diffuse the situation. 

Harley extinguished her sword. So did Susan. Hermione, however, kept hers lit. “Now, tell us why you have returned when we told you to leave.”

“Need your help to clear Sirius Black. Need you to testify in the Wizengamot. Need your mother to release your secret.”

_ Boom. _ Harley stepped back and took in a deep breath. Now she knew why Amelia had risked so much. Harley looked at Hermione and Hermione extinguished her sword. 

“Why didn’t you just write to me like everyone else? Are you just that dumb that you think you can come here and arrest me? You’ve got to know that there’s no where you can take me that Hermione can’t come find me.”

Amelia looked up from her knees, mulishly. She was feeling angry and embarrassed. She didn’t like being called stupid in front of hundreds of students as well as adults. 

“Get up. But go for your wand and you won’t live long enough to regret it.”

Amelia got up from her knees. She hated being threatened, but she could see that in the circumstance, there was nothing she could do about it. She couldn’t throw her weight around, because she didn’t have any to throw around. She was alone. She was facing two witches who had vastly more magical power than she could even imagine, and she was in  _ their _ nest. 

“You want us to testify? You tell us when and where. But you do it by letter. Come back here again and we’ll take it personally.”

Amelia really, really wanted to say,  _ How dare you! _ But then she realized that they dared because there wasn’t a fucking thing she could do about it. Even if she turned her  _ entire _ Auror force of 100 against the two girls, the chances were that she’d need 100 body-bags for them and one for her. 

Albus sat back and smiled. Now he knew. There was a secret. With a secret-keeper. Isabelle Marie Ross. There was something so important that Isabelle was willing to protect it with her life – and Amelia knew the secret, which meant that she was in on whatever conspiracy the girls were protecting. Who else? Minerva? Poppy? Who else was in on the secret? Ragnok? Almost surely. How else could the two girls have gotten unrestricted access to their family magics or fortunes? And the Athames that the girls were carrying.. one of them he had never seen before. He didn’t dare touch it. He could feel it across the room. It hated him. The one that Harley Ross carried was even a step beyond that. It wanted him dead. He got the feeling that if she threw it at him, not even Fawkes’ tears could save him. 

Amelia had said and seen enough. It was clear that her own niece would turn against her if she moved against the girls and that Hogwarts was becoming a death-trap for anyone who didn’t support Harley and Hermione Ross. Walking out, she thought about her years at Hogwarts and how different a place it had been. She couldn’t remember a time when the school had so coalesced around a leader or group of leaders. But, she had never gone to school with arch-magi. They really were a breed apart. 

Albus had changed things when he had gone to Hogwarts, but that was during the mid-point of the 19 th century. Life in Europe was different back then. There were still wars and skirmishes breaking out all over Europe and Africa and Albus was very much a Scotland First! Nativist when he was growing up and a United Kingdom first! Young adult. Being gay, but not out, either to himself or to anyone else, he couldn’t gather to himself the kind of friendships that he had originally wished to. It had limited his impact on his cohort and kept almost all of the magic that Albus had learned to Albus himself. 

As Amelia apparated back to London, which was not an inconsequential effort, since she was a witch of only moderate power, she thought about the fact that Harley and Hermione Ross were forcing her to change: how she conducted herself, how she thought about what was possible, and how she judged people. 

Amelia had never had her life threatened quite so directly, and certainly not by a twelve-year-old. It was humbling and it was galling. She recognized that God was not fair in the way that he gave out magical talent and that it served no one well to get mad at God, because what was done was done and it could not be changed. 

That didn’t, however, make it any easier to swallow. She had worked hard, she believed, in school and thereafter, to get to her current position and to be called out by a twelve-year-old was more than a little infuriating. The flip side was that they were holding all of the cards - Magical, political, financial, and otherwise and they knew it. Worse, so did everyone else. She had seen the meteors that the two had pulled out of near-Earth orbit. They were massive – on the order of 300K kilograms – and way more than enough to turn London into one massive fucking hole. They were going to baffle the Muggle scientists for the next 1000 years, lined up as they were, in neat rows, all in excess of 50 meters and some up to 100 meters long. 

Upon entering her office, she called her assistant. “Janice!”

“Yes, Boss?” Janice thought that her boss looked distinctly the worse for wear and that trips to Scotland really didn’t agree with her.

“Janice, if I ever get it in my head to Apparate to Hogwarts again, please stun me and dump my ass in a holding cell overnight.”

“Yes, boss. Will do.”

Janice turned and left her boss’ presence. She was convinced that Harley and Hermione Ross were bad for her boss’ mojo and that she should stay away from them. Having the express command to stun her boss and drop her in the drunk-tank overnight made things just that much easier. At least this way, she had permission to do what she had been planning on doing anyway. 

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**Monday, September 14, 1992 – Meeting of the Wizengamot, London, UK**

“All hail & God Save the Queen! The  eight-seven hundred and nineteenth meeting of the Wizengamot stands open!” The Sargent-At-Arms said, as Harley and Hermione watched from their seats. Ted Tonks was going to vote their proxies, since neither was of age to vote within the Wizengamot and wouldn’t be until they were 17. Ted would vote all of their seats in support of the bill to ratify the modified treaty with the Goblins, which would give the Goblins pretty much everything they were demanding: wand rights, property rights above ground, and equal participation in the society, with a 10 year ramp-up to full voting rights and representation in the Wizengamot itself. 

There was a great deal of consternation about the situation, but the Treaty of 1798 was clear about what the Goblins could demand if the Treaty was breached, and the Wizengamot itself caused the Treaty to be violated, and in an extremely blatant way. 

The voting process itself didn’t much interest either girl, but they had promised both Amelia Bones and Albus Dumbledore that when the time came, they would stand with the majority, in support of the modification. It wasn’t a happy situation. Both Harley and Hermione would have preferred to see the Goblins get what they deserved as fully sentient, equal partners in the magical world, but no situation is ever perfect and they had explained that to Ragnok. It moved the ball 90% of the way down the field towards full equality.

It took more than four hours to get through the entire Wizengamot agenda, but when the day was done, the Goblins had their rights and the Treaty of 1798 was amended to eliminate the restrictions on wand-rights for Goblins, to give any Goblin the right to buy land above-ground, and to create the first Goblin registration, with an eye towards full voting rights within ten years. It also had iron-clad rights for vault-holders, so that no person could ever be denied his or her Gringotts statements. 

As they stood in the corner of Hermione’s box, which bore the newly created coat of arms of Dagworth-Granger, Harley stared at it. She loved the new motto: “ _ Cavemus interualla” – “we guard the gaps”.  _ Hermione, she knew, had wanted to make it something like “ _ Nolite oblivisci rivus” – “do not forget to floss”,  _ but that wasn’t “motto-y” enough and she was talked out of it by her parents. The Ross motto, which was old and historic, was somewhat more dramatic: “ _ Solum animam terminos statuat” _ “Only the soul limits”. _ _

Harley thought about what was going to happen tomorrow. In some ways, she really didn’t know what to think of it. She wasn’t afraid of the truth coming out. She was old enough that she could defend herself, and the secret was old enough that most people, she thought, would not react badly once they learned the truth. Also, it wasn’t like Hermione was going to stop loving her, since she already knew the secret and didn’t care. 

There were, already, seven people who knew the secret. What was going to happen when  _ everyone _ knew the secret? Would they call her a freak? She didn’t want to be teased any more than the next child and she worried about what they would say. Not that anyone was going to try to bully her or Hermione, because that would just be dumb (and even she knew it it), but teasing was something that was harder. 

_ You’re doing it for Sirius.  _ Harley had to stop and take a deep breath and admit to herself that she was, in fact, more than a little scared.  _ What if people try to get me to change? _ That scared her enough that she looked around for Hermione. Seeing her, she ran to her and hugged her, the tears beginning to fall. 

Hermione knew, because she could feel it, that Harley was feeling sad and scared. When enough tears had fallen, Hermione whispered to Harley, “What is it?”

“Scared about tomorrow” Harley was able to get out, in between tears and blowing her nose. 

“Let’s go home.” Hermione whispered, since there was nothing else that they were expected to do at the Ministry for the rest of the day. 

Harley and Hermione closed their eyes and disappeared. The adults around them suddenly stopped talking and the room went quiet, as people took in what they had just seen. Finally, someone said, “That’s impossible.”

Lucius Malfoy was almost laughing out loud. He so wanted to do the same, but it was a bit of magic that he wanted to keep to himself, in case he ever  _ really _ needed it. Minerva McGonagall was smiling her tight, “I can’t laugh-out-loud” smile, as she listened to the growing dyspepsia over the fact Harley and Hermione Ross had just up and apparated out of the Wizengamot chamber, which was supposed to be impossible. 

Albus Dumbledore banged the gavel and was able, finally, to restore quiet. He spoke from his position as Warlock of the Wizengamot. “Ladies and gentlemen, Lords and Ladies, please sit.”

People found their seats, wanting to hear what the Warlock had to say. When he felt that he had control of the floor again, he looked around. “I’m sure you’re all wondering what you’ve just seen and are trying to understand it. There are a few times when I must make it clear that there are actual differences in ability in our society. Not based in supposed ‘blood-status’, which is now and always has been a lie, but in magical heritage. 

I have long argued that the notion of ‘blood purity’ is, for lack of a better term, bull-pucky. However, even I have to acknowledge that magical heritage matters. And what you’ve just seen is a clear example of magical heritage. The Lady Harley Janel Ross was adopted into that line and, as a consequence, was gifted the entire family’s magical heritage. Obviously, not one of us knew just how powerful a heritage that was, or how it was going to impact her, but it clearly did. Harley Ross is an arch-mage. She may be the most powerful witch alive today. Her wife, and I use that term for clarity’s sake, Hermione Jane Dagworth-Granger-Ross, is in the same class. Whether her power is exactly the same as Harley’s is unknown, but she too has an amazing magical heritage. What that means for all of us is that these two young ladies are in a class by themselves. 

Now, the Wizengamot is wonderful, powerful institution and all of us, I think, are justifiably proud of it and the building in which we reside. It reflects the cumulative work of witches and wizards over the last thousand years. I think that at least some of us are under the impression that this building the be-all and end-all of magical construction and security. Clearly that is not the case, since Harley and Hermione just demonstrated that they are unfazed by the wards and magical defenses here. I strongly advise against anyone else trying to bypass those wards, however.” That garnered a laugh from at least a third of the body present. 

“While I like to think that I am a reasonably skilled wizard, I am outclassed by both of them. Not in knowledge or experience, but in raw magical power. I cannot now nor have I ever been able to compete with them. They can do things that I have never been able to do, and that includes passing through the wards here.”

A wave of murmured comment swept the room as people took in what Albus was saying. “There is no shame in that. We are each given by God our magical abilities. He chose those two girls to carry the burden of extraordinary magical power. And it is a burden. Don’t be fooled into thinking that having their abilities is any kind of panacea. Great and often terrible responsibilities come to those with great power. I have no double that things will be asked of Harley and Hermione that will constitute tremendous sacrifices in the future. Thank you.” Albus sat down then, and waited to see the outcome of the set-up he had just created. 

The cacophony was loud and immediate. Not from the members of the Wizengamot, who remained quiet, but from those watching in the balconies. Eventually, order was restored and the speaker pro temp asked if there was anyone else who wished to address the meeting. No one rose to take the chance to speak, which seemed to many to be a first. 

The meeting adjourned soberly, and members walked towards the exits, thinking about what they had just seen and heard and what it meant for them. 

Harley and Hermione were, at that very moment, curled up on Hermione’s bed in the 3 rd year girls’ bedroom, stretched out, facing each other. The moment that they had appeared in the bedroom, they had started talking and crying, kissing, laughing, and trying to reassure each other. 

It was tough to calm down from the emotional upheaval of the day. Not that the Wizengamot meeting had been particularly challenging, but rather the realization that thing weren’t going to be able to stay the same. Harley knew she wasn’t going to be able to hide for very much longer. People were going to know stuff about her that she had been able to keep hidden for a long time, which had kept the press away, as well as the general public. Now she was going to have to deal the press and both the well-wishers as well as the haters. The good news, if there was any to be had, was that no “Harry Potter” stories had ever come out. No one had written about a fictional childhood for him. In fact, no one had written anything at all about the Potters, because of the nature of the Fidelius that Minerva had cast that Halloween night. 

“You’ll still love me when the secret comes out?” Harley asked, very tentatively.

Hermione’s eyes were brimming full of tears as she both heard and felt the worry and heard the sadness in Harley’s voice. “Never be a time when I don’t love you with everything I am” she said as she kissed Harley’s neck and held her tight. 

“Thank you…“ Harley said, her tears turning happy… or at least happier than they were. 

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	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter of Book One - in which a Lord is released and another is condemned .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pursuant to the Berne Convention Implementation Act of 1988 and the Digital Millennium Copyright Act of 1998, 17 U.S.C. §§ 512, 120 1–1 205, this work is copyrighted 2019 with all rights expressly reserved by its author unless explicitly granted. No portion may be reproduced in any fashion, or hosted on any website, without the express written and notarized permission of the author. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own rights to any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of Joanne K Rowling, © 2003, to whom I am deeply indebted. The Harry Potter series is property of Joanne K. Rowling, and Arthur A. Levine Books, Inc., a division of Scholastic Press, Inc., © 2003. I make no money from any of this. WHATEVER CREATIVE MATERIAL IS LEFT IS MINE.
> 
> CONTENT Disclaimer: This story may contain sexually graphic and explicit material and as such, it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now, as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. If you are offended by sexually explicit stories, please read no further. These stories are just that, stories, and do not promote or condone the activities described herein.

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**From Chapter Thirteen**

It was tough to calm down from the emotional upheaval of the day. Not that the Wizengamot meeting had been particularly challenging, but rather the realization that thing weren’t going to be able to stay the same. Harley knew she wasn’t going to be able to hide for very much longer. People were going to know stuff about her that she had been able to keep hidden for a long time, which had kept the press away, as well as the general public. Now she was going to have to deal the press and both the well-wishers as well as the haters. The good news, if there was any to be had, was that no “Harry Potter” stories had ever come out. No one had written about a fictional childhood for him. In fact, no one had written anything at all about the Potters, because of the nature of the Fidelius that Minerva had cast that Halloween night. 

“You’ll still love me when the secret comes out?” Harley asked, very tentatively.

Hermione’s eyes were brimming full of tears as she both heard and felt the worry and heard the sadness in Harley’s voice. “Never be a time when I don’t love you with everything I am” she said as she kissed Harley’s neck and held her tight. 

“Thank you…“ Harley said, her tears turning happy… or at least happier than they were. 

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**Tuesday, September 15, 1992 – Meeting of the Wizengamot, London, UK**

“All hail & God Save the Queen! The  eight-seven hundred and twentieth meeting of the Wizengamot stands open!” The Sargent-At-Arms said, as Harley and Hermione watched from their seats.

Albus Dumbledore looked on as the Wizengamot got underway. It was an exceptional meeting, called by Amelia Bones, as was her right when she was in her official capacity as the Director of Magical Law Enforcement for the magical citizens of Great Britain. She, of course, had no control over the Irish Magical Parliament, which met  in  Kylemore Abbey, in Galway, instead of Dublin, since Galway had always been neutral territory for those who had opposed the British, in the Irish War of Independence. 

The Parliamentarian rose and addressed the group next. She was a short, rotund woman with a grey, bobbing pony-tail that looked like a folded over croissant that had had its ends chopped off. It was not a ‘normal’ look for an older witch, at least by the examples that Hermione could see. “Ladies and Gentlemen, wizards and witches, and Warlock of the Wizengamot, we are called into session today at the wish of the Director of Magical Law Enforcement, Lady Amelia Marie Bone. All rise!” and everyone did so, as Amelia made her way to the speaker’s stand, which stood next to the one for the Parliamentarian. 

Amelia gathered her papers, signaled for everyone to be seated, and then began. “Thank you, Ladies and Gentlemen, wizards and witches, and Warlock of the Wizengamot. I have called this session to rectify a wrong. Not just a wrong, but an ugly, horrible wrong committed against a Lord of this body. Someone who had never done a thing wrong and was unjustly sent to Azkaban for more than ten years! 

I am compelled by my oath to this action, but more, I am  _ required _ to bring this wrong to light and to tell all of you that we can no longer stand by, idly, and accept the failure of what passes for a legal system here in magical Britain. Not only do we have a  _ duty _ to rectify the unjust imprisonment for which I called us together today, but we have an  _ obligation _ to create an entirely new court system. It needs to be better, stronger, more just, and more respected than any other, and it must be these things because we are British! We created democracy! We created the rule of law! It must be these things, because it  _ can _ be these things! And further, Lords and Ladies, wizards and witches of the Wizengamot, we must do these things because by doing so, not only will we protect our fellow citizens, but we will protect  _ each other _ . We will have the confidence, going forward, that everyone will receive fair trials. There will be no railroading, no false convictions. People accused of heinous crimes will be made answerable, and those who are innocent will be given every possible opportunity to be not just found  _ not guilty.  _ That’s not good enough. We should have the confidence to find and declare for those who are  _ innocent _ . We should tell the world that someone has been tried and cleared. Found innocent of any charge and released, with his or her good name intact. That, ladies and gentlemen, is what we owe each other!”

The applause was immediate and it was thunderous. Hermione and Harley were on their feet, clapping hard, along with all those around them. It took a solid minute for the applause to die down. When it did, it was apparent that Amelia was looking both pleased and relieved. 

Amelia eventually continued. “Thank you, one and all. I have never thought myself much of an orator. Now, we have a job to do. Please bring in the prisoner.” Two Aurors, in dress uniform, escorted Sirius Black into the chamber and sat him on the witness chair. He was handcuffed, but not chained. Harley had expected it, but it still brought a lump to her throat and tears to her eyes. Hermione took her hand and whispered reassurances in her ear, as the two of them watched the scene play out. 

“Bring forth the Veritaserum” Amelia called. Again, a fully decked-out Auror brought in a stoppered vial on a cushion. “My lord Dumbledore, in your capacity as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and your standing as Britain’s only Alchemist, would you please confirm the nature of the vial that I have on this cushion?”

People loved watching Albus do magic. It was like watching a master musician or master painter. It was beautiful. Albus knew this of course and so made a bit of a show of summoning his magic and then releasing it in a stream towards the small vial. The results of his magic were obvious to all, as they hung in mid-air, confirming that the vial contained pure Veritaserum.

“Thank you, my Lord Dumbledore.” Amelia said. She knew that Albus was a showman at times and in this case, it helped a great deal to have him goose up the magic and make a show of confirming the vial. “Chief Auror, would you please administer three drops to the prisoner?”

The Auror did so and Sirius opened his mouth, obligingly. When Amelia was convinced that Sirius had been dosed properly, she began asking questions. 

“What is your name?”

“Sirius Orion Black”

“And what is your title?”

“I am the Lord Black, until I pass off the title or have children.”

“And where have you been these last ten years?”

“In Azkaban Prison”

“Why were you there?”

“Because I was illegally imprisoned for killing Peter Pettigrew”

“Did you kill Peter Pettigrew?”

“No. He blew up a gas line under the ground and used the explosion to hide his transition back to a black rat and his escape.”

“Why did he do that?”

“Because Peter was the secret-keeper for the Potters. He was the one who sold them out to Voldemort.”

There was a collective gasp at hearing the name, causing Sirius to scoff. It took some time for Amelia to restore order to the room before she could continue. She finally did, asking, “And so you were never the Potter’s secret keeper?”

Sirius replied, “I was, but we convinced James and Lily to use Peter instead, thinking that Voldemort would never suspect him of being the secret-keeper.”

“And so the caster of the charm knew about the change?”

“Yes, Dumbledore knew that Peter was the secret keeper. He knew that Peter betrayed the Potters and that I was imprisoned illegally.”

The room blew up. Suddenly, there was yelling and screaming and several people tried to get to Albus, either to protect him or to stab him with their Athames. It took all of the Aurors, working together, to restore order. Amelia, loudly, directed her Aurors. “Arrest Dumbledore. Strip him of his wands and any other focal devices.”

The Aurors moved faster than the Headmaster could, preventing him from calling his familiar, in order to escape. He was handcuffed using magic-suppression manacles and lead away. 

By the time the room was quiet again, the Veritaserum had worn off and had to be re-administered. It was dicey, since any more could prove fatal. Amelia pressed on. “Sirius Black, did you escape from Azkaban?”

“Yes.”

“Did you have help?”

“Yes.”

“Who helped you escape?”

“Isabelle Marie Ross.”

“And how did she help you escape?”

“She sent me a wand, food, and weapons to use on the guards if I had to do so.”

“And how did you get out?”

“I made a space in the outer wall and created a set of stairs, attached to the building, and then just walked down the stairs.”

“And then what happened?”

“Isabelle was waiting for me in a boat, off the coast of the island. I changed into my Animagus form, dove into the water, and swam out to a point past the wards, where I could Apparate to her boat.”

“And your Animagus form is what?”

“I become a big, black Grim.”

“A real Grim?”

“Yes. I can call lightning out of the sky, can talk to Death, and warn someone of his or her coming death.”

“Have you ever done that?”

“Once. And then I went home and cried for three days.”

“Last question: Why did you go after Peter Pettigrew?”

“Because I believed that he had killed my godson, Harry.”

“And did he cause Harry to die?”

Sirius’ mouth came open, but he couldn’t speak. Literally.

“Harry died that night”

Again, Sirius’ mouth came open, but he couldn’t speak.

Amelia Bones looked at him and then said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, what you are seeing is the impact of a Fidelius Charm. This witness cannot speak. However, the secret-keeper is here. “Bring forth the witness”

Hermione’s eyes swung around and so did Harley’s. They saw Isabelle, entering the court-platform. She did not meet their eyes.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, wizards and witches, we have another witness. She is the secret keeper that can unravel this for all of us. She has agreed to do so, because she believes setting Sirius free is more important now than keeping her secret.”

“Chief Auror, administer the Veritaserum.”

Isabelle took the witness chair opposite to Sirius Black. She opened her mouth and was dosed with the truth-drug. 

“What is your name?”

“Isabelle Marie Ross”

“How old are you?

“31”

“And where are you from?”

“I was born in Sussex, England.”

“Are you British or American?”

“I am an American by oath.”

“Did you help to free Sirius Black from Azkaban Prison?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And why did you do that?”

“Because it was the right thing to do.”

“Any other reason?”

“Yes.”

“And what is that reason?”

“He is the god-father to my daughter, Harley.”

“How can that be? A godfather must by magic be related to the child.”

“Sirius Orion Black was god-father to Harry James Potter, through Charlus Potter’s wife, Dorea Black, who was James Potter’s grandmother.”

There were excited mutterings all over the gallery, since much of the Potter’s genealogy had been unknown and this gave many people something new to talk about. 

“What is the secret that you are carrying? What is it that we do not know?”

“My secret is that Harry James Potter did not die with his parents. He was kidnapped by Minerva McGonagall and brought to me that Halloween night, for me to raise.”

“But Harry was a boy. You have a daughter.”

“Yes. Harry James Potter was born a Metamorph. At age three, he became a girl. He has been a girl ever since. I adopted her as my daughter, Harley Janel Ross.”

The Wizengamot became a mad-house as members came to their feet, yelling, screaming, demanding answers to questions that they hadn’t yet articulated. Those, however, who knew where Harley and Hermione were standing, kept their calm, said nothing, and did not approach either girl. They knew the two girls were far more dangerous than the rabble in the Wizengamot and no one wanted to provoke them into doing something either rash or homicidal. The yelling went on for more than ten minutes, as people tried to be heard above the din. 

The Speaker Pro Temp was finally able to restore order and get members to sit down, with the help of more than fifty Aurors and hit-wizards. Amelia was unfazed. She had expected the chaos and had planned her strategy accordingly. “Lady Bones, would you please continue?”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, wizards and witches, we have learned a great deal today. I am sure that many of you are shocked. Some of you are relieved. Some of you, and I know because I saw you, were crying happy tears at the news that Harry Potter lived. He was the ‘Boy-who-lived’. We don’t know the how(s) and why(s) of that night, but we do know that we are happier and more whole, but a count of 1, because Harry lived. We are also happier that an injustice has been addressed. Let us finish that matter, since it is what brought us here. Can I hear a motion to declare Sirius Orion Black innocent of all charges?”

A loud voice from one of the upper tiers called, “Seconded!”

“Any discussion?” She asked, looking around. “Seeing no desire for discussion, I press on towards a vote on the underlying matter. Do we find Sirius Orion Black innocent?”

Every hand went up, as far as she could tell. “They Ayes have it. Sirius Orion Black, we, the members of the Wizengamot find you  _ innocent _ of the charges against you. You are free to leave, with your magical passport returned to you, and the statutory sum of £1 Million galleons for each of your ten years’ imprisonment.”

Sirius smiled and waved at everyone, and then laughed again as Harley apparated to his side, to give him a huge hug, before Apparating back to her box. 

The Speaker Pro Temp stood up and, holding back a laugh said to the body, “Would the Lady Ross please stop making fun of our warding scheme? The Wizengamot, in body united, would appreciate it.”

The words “HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE” appeared above the Speaker Pro Temp’s head and flashed for a moment or two, before disappearing. It was lost on no one that advanced, wandless magic was also not supposed to be possible inside the Wizengamot and that Harley was more than just poking fun at the situation: she was demonstrating that they were going to have to do more than just talk about changing or improving the wards. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, wizards and witches, we have solved one problem, but not yet addressed the larger issue, which is the structure of our courts that have gotten us to this place. Nor have we talked about today’s revelation that the Chief Warlock was complicit in the deaths of Lily and James Potter; that he allowed this body to confirm upon Peter Pettigrew an honor that he did not deserve, and that he has hidden from this body the knowledge that he tried to interfere in the guardianship of Harry James Potter, through kidnapping. It is only because of the bravery of Minerva Catherine McGonagall that Harry Potter was brought to a place of safety after his parents were killed.”

A cry of “Make her speak!” was heard from the back of the assembly-room. 

Amelia looked around and then pointed to the person whom she thought had cried out to the assembly. “Make whom speak? To whom to do refer?”

The elderly wizard stood up and looked at Amelia. It was Gilalites Moffit, a man whom Amelia didn’t know personally, but had heard from, from time to time. “Make McGonagall testify! Make her tell us what she did!”

Amelia looked at him and thought about the request. Finally she said, “Do all of the rest of you feel the same way? Do we need to bring Lady McGonagall before us to testify? Do I hear a motion to do so?” About three people stood and made the motion. 

“Do I hear a second?” This time, six voices called out, to second the motion. 

“All in favor?” A majority raised their hands.

“Opposed?” That got two votes. 

“They Ayes have it. We will bring Minerva Catherine McGonagall before this body to testify in the matter of the kidnapping of Harry James Potter.”

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Once the Wizengamot had dissolved for the day, Harley and Hermione made their way to the room where they planned on meeting Isabelle. Both girls had their wands out, because they felt as if they were being watched. Magic was prickling at the back of Hermione’s neck and Harley had learned to trust that sign absolutely. 

At some sign that Harley missed, Hermione ignited her sword. “I don’t like what I’m feeling. Something’s not right.”

Harley ignited her sword too, and the two turned 90 degrees, so that they were guarding each other’s back. A curse came out of nowhere and just missed Hermione. Harley reached out with her magic and grabbed the person that had thrown the curse. It was an Auror. Harley didn’t bother being nice. She ran him through, killing him instantly. Another curse came their way and Hermione batted it away with her sword. Then another. Harley dealt with that one. There were two men at the end of the hallway, pointing their wands at the two girls. Harley reached out with her magic and instantly snapped the neck of the one on the left. The one on the right looked, in horror, as he heard his partner die. He threw the killing curse, but it missed, because his arms had just fallen off. A light-sword shown brightly in front of the man and Amelia Bones stepped around him, holding it up. Harley looked at her and mouthed, “thank you” at her. 

Hermione grabbed Harley and the two of them shimmered into blackness and disappeared, leaving Amelia Bones with yet another pile of bodies to clean up. 

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**DMLE/AUROR Headquarters - Wednesday, September 16, 1992 – around 7am**

Amelia Bones was not happy. Out of the six that she had taken with her to Hogwarts – Two were dead, one was permanently disarmed, and three were AWOL. That meant that there were at least three very dangerous men, who had reported to her directly, wandering around the countryside, potentially looking to kill Harley and Hermione Ross. Not that the girls couldn’t deal with them straight up, but killing from ambush was always something that was a possibility. 

She looked around her office and realized that she was down to 90 Aurors. She needed 150. Hogwarts had produced only one decent candidate for the Auror Academy last year, Nymphadora Tonks. There had been a time when Hogwarts alone was producing twenty or more candidates. She suspected that she might never see those days again. You had to be exceptional to get into the Academy and that meant, among other things, having NEWTs for DADA and NEWTs in Potions. The Americans were able to recruit plenty into the Auror Academies there, but they out-numbered magical Britain by a factor of at least 100. 

Janice walked into Amelia’s office, being the only other person besides Amelia who had the right and privilege to do so, and placed the morning’s paper on her desk. A moment later, there was tea in a Russian samovar, along with a beautiful crystal glass in a silver holder, beside it. 

Amelia saw it and smiled, despite the headline that she was reading:

**“Lord Black is Innocent, says Wizengamot. Free man after Ten Years”**

**By Rita Skeeter**

**Wednesday, 16 September**

> The Wizengamot was thrown into chaos yesterday as Amelia Bones, head of the DMLE, brought forth the Lord Sirius Orion Black, and showed him to be not just  _ not guilty _ of any charges, but innocent of any wrong-doing, including the charge of escaping imprisonment. “You can’t be charged with escape if you were illegally imprisoned” Lord Black said of his situation.
> 
> Under Veritaserum, Lord Black described the night of 31 October 1981 and his actions regarding the Potters and specifically, his god-son, Harry Potter. It was clear from his testimony that not only was he wrongly accused and imprisoned, but that Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, knew about his false imprisonment and knew that Peter Pettigrew was the real secret-keeper for James and Lily Potter, and never said anything nor made any effort to clear Black’s name. It was Pettigrew who sold the Potters out to the Dark Lord. 
> 
> On the strength of Black’s testimony, Albus Dumbledore was arrested while in the Wizengamot. He can be held for 14 days, at the Queen’s behest, unless Lady Bones petitions for an extension, in order to gather further evidence. 
> 
> The Wizengamot also voted to subpoena the Lady Minerva Catherine McGonagall and bring her before the body, to give evidence in the case of  Harry Potter , who was thought dead. (see page 2).
> 
> Isabelle Marie Ross also gave testimony regarding her daughter, Harley Janel Ross, and about her part in helping Lord Sirius Black depart from Azkaban Island. Her testimony can be found on Page 4. 

Amelia read the article and then re-read it, to make sure that what she was seeing was really on the page. It was hard to believe that Rita had made no effort at all to embellish the story or to put her own particularly nasty spin on any of it.  _ Sometimes miracles occur.  _ She thought to herself. 

She turned to page 2, to read what Rita had said about Harry Potter / Harley Ross, but again, she found nothing objectionable or factually incorrect.  _ Did Harley get to Rita? If so, what did Harley say to her? “Hi, if you report about me wrong, I will do things to you that would make the devil himself cry out in terror?” _ Amelia knew it wasn’t funny, but she couldn’t help it. There was a fine line between black humor and actual, thoughtful consideration of what a suspect might do. Harley and Hermione hadn’t crossed any lines yet, but they were perfectly capable of doing so. The question was whether the DMLE had any power at all, or at least power sufficient to call the girls to account. What if 100 Aurors wasn’t enough to arrest them? What then? Who would she turn to, who  _ could _ she turn to if she had to, in order to arrest the two most powerful magic-users on Earth? No one, came the answer, and it scared her. 

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**Just after 7am at Hogwarts**

Hermione had suggested, and Harley thought it was a very good idea, that they have breakfast in bed and not try the gauntlet of the Great Hall. Dobby was invaluable in this regard. He brought them a full breakfast so that they could sit and read the inevitable  _ Daily Prophet _ articles in peace. 

Hedwig, knowing that her Mistress was still in her bed, brought the paper to her. Harley saw her winging in and patted the owl perch that they had set up for her. “C’mere, my girl. Have something for me?”

Hedwig hooted softly and lifted her leg. As soon as they had freed the miniature package, Harley gave her a big piece of breakfast sausage. “Here, sweetie. Trade you.”

Hedwig took the entire sausage in four bites, which impressed Harley. “Need more or are you all done?”

The beautiful, almost all-white owl hopped down, onto the bed, and walked over until she was next to Harley’s plate. She bent over, grabbed the half-sausage that was on her mistress’ plate, and then hopped back to her perch. 

“You know, you could have just asked, right?” Harley said, looking Hedwig in the eyes. 

Hedwig snapped her bill, but not aggressively, saying, “I wasn’t finished”.    
Harley looked at her, grasping what Hedwig was trying to say, and then admonished her owl, “Well, if you weren’t finished, you could have hopped down and then  _ asked _ . Taking something without asking isn’t polite, is it? Do you want to be replaced with a Great Horned Owl?”

Hermione watched and listened to the interplay between her wife and their owl. She found it funny that Hedwig could be so touchy at times, and then so gentle at others. Finally, Hedwig flipped her wings back, hooted softly, and then looked at Hermione. She giggled. “Hedwig, I’m staying out of this. If you want more sausage, you need to ask Harley,  _ politely… _ and don’t give me those gimlet eyes. You know better than to snap your bill at your mistress.” 

Hedwig picked up one foot and then the other and then said, “ _ Hoot, hoot, hoooooooot.”  _

Harley laughed. “Ok, yes, you’re a good girl and yes, I love you. And no, I don’t have anything for you to carry right now and yes, you can have another piece of sausage.” Harley handed over a quarter-piece of sausage, which Hedwig took and ate, but not all at once, and not with ruffled feathers. 

“Who’s training whom, love?” Hermione asked her wife.

Harley rolled her eyes. “I know, love. I know. I get the feeling that she’d love to send  _ me _ to obedience school.”

“How to have proper respect for One’s owl?”

Harley grinned. “Something like that.”

“What are we going to do?” Hermione asked, shifting topics suddenly, but not unexpectedly. It was the subject on both of their minds.

“We’re going to have to face it at some point, love. Not like we can get away from it.”

“You going to be alright? You know how much I love you, right?

Harley nodded. “I know. I just don’t want to put you through anything.”

“Hey” she said gently, “I’m tougher than I look.”

“I know, but still… “

“We’ll protect each other, love. It’s our only choice.” Hermione said, wriggling up the bed, to lay next to her wife. “But first, we’ve got to get to class.”

Harley looked at her and then at the doorway to the bathroom. “Join me in the shower?”

It was a big step. They had not showered together before, though they had talked about it. “You sure?”

“Yea. I’m ready for more. And I love you.”

Hermione could feel her heart beating faster. This was one of the things she wanted most and now it was about to happen. “Undress me?” She asked, tentatively. Her heart swelled as she saw the gleam in Harley’s face and eyes. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Not all was peaceful in the Castle. Quiet arguments were breaking out over breakfast and some were threatening to turn violent. No where was that truer than in Rowena’s house, where the vitriol was growing intense. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Malfoy Estate, Kielder Island, just north of Falstone, UK, later that same day – about the same time.**

Narcissa Malfoy rose and walked to the bathroom. She was feeling sick to her stomach, but joyful at the same time. She was absolutely sure she was pregnant, which made her want to jump over the moon. Their son Draco was safe at Hogwarts and it was way passed time for her to have another child. She was older, wiser, and in a far better position, both financially and physically. 

As soon as she had ‘reviewed breakfast’, she magicked her mouth clean and went off to find some water, cut with lemon juice. She knew that would help settle her stomach and get her ready to eat. It was unfortunate that Lucius had to be off, dealing with their growing business holdings, but there was no one else that he trusted to do the work and he felt that he couldn’t impinge on the Lady Ross for a reference into the Goblin Investing Division. He was sure that she’d do it in a heartbeat, but he didn’t feel right in asking. She had already done so very much for them that asking felt usury or taking advantage.

Once she was dressed in house-clothes, by which she meant clothes that she could be seen in without embarrassment, but were mostly intended for wear while she was working around the house, Narcissa went off to read the paper, have her tea, and plan her day. 

She hadn’t even gotten as far as sitting down with her tea when the headline of the paper struck her.  _ Sirius innocent? Released? Dumbledore arrested?  _ Narcissa knew her duty. It was to her husband and to her family. Grabbing her wand, she conjured up the best, strongest thought of love that she had and used it to fuel her Patronus. It was a European Red Fox, which she thought was funny, because it was an animal that most associated with cleverness and resourcefulness, and she didn’t see either of those characteristics in herself. She sent Lucius a message:  _ Find today’s paper. Important. Love you. _

Once she had sent the Patronus messenger on its way to her husband, she sat back down to begin a thorough reading of the paper and all of the articles. Her eyes grew very wide when she got to page 4.

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Just after 9am at Hogwarts – Wednesday, Sept. 16th **

The Hogwarts main staff-room was in quiet chaos as word reached the staff that Dumbledore had been arrested for multiple crimes, including obstruction of justice, kidnapping, subornation of perjury, conspiracy to commit theft by way of fraud, attempted theft, and attempted violation of the rights of a Muggle. The situation was made worse, because the Deputy Headmistress was known to be involved, because of the testimony given by Isabelle Ross, and liable for possible charges including kidnapping and interfering with the proper execution of a will, which was a crime because it involved a Lord of the Wizengamot and one of the Twenty Eight Families. 

Minerva hadn’t been seen by anyone on the staff since the Fourteenth of September, which meant that three days had passed since she was last seen. She was supposed to be present to teach Transfiguration and to lead the staff while the Headmaster dealt with the charges against him, but she was nowhere to be found. The Hat reported that she wasn’t on the grounds of the school. 

Everyone knew the rules: If the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress were both gone for five days during the school-year, the school’s wards would pass to the next most senior instructor – in this case, Filius Flitwick – and the Deputy Headmistress and the Headmaster would both be considered in abeyance of their duties and violation of their oaths. Filius didn’t want the job. It was far too taxing in terms of paperwork and extraneous duties and wasn’t worth the pay increase that came with the title. 

Filius also knew that neither Pomona Sprout nor Madame Pomfrey wanted the job, and they were the only other ones on the staff with enough seniority to take the Headmaster/Headmistress position. It was an awful situation, or at least had the potential to be an awful situation. Filius wasn’t sanguine about what Albus had done, but he had always had faith and confidence in Minerva and he hoped that she would make it back before the five days ran. 

On the flip-side though, Filius knew that there were things that he would change if both Albus and Minerva were unable to continue with their duties. He hoped that it didn’t come to that, but he wasn’t at all sure that it wouldn’t. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

It was third-year DADA and Harley and Hermione had been tapped to teach the course. Harley shook her head as she and Hermione stood in front of the class, preparing to teach the day’s lesson.

When everyone was seated, Hermione began: “This morning we are going to learn a brand new way of Apparating. This will take you through any ward. Some of you may not have the power to do this. Don’t be ashamed. It’s not for everyone. If you can’t do it the way we’re about to teach, there’s another way, which I will show you. It’s what I did the day that I had to get to Harley, when she called out for me.”

There was tittering all around the room, as everyone remembered where they were when Harley had cried out, magically, for Hermione.

Harley kind of glared at them, and then broke into a kind of silly smile. “Yea, yea. I know. You all heard it. I’m not ashamed. I love Hermione more than anything.”

Hermione blushed as she heard her wife say publicly what she had said privately. Then she blushed harder, if that was possible, as she thought about the shower they had shared. She could feel her knickers growing moist with her desire and she squirmed.  _ Hormones _ . She thought to herself with a mixture of frustration and humor. DADA was not the place to get it on with her wife, despite the temptation. 

Harley, thankfully, took charge of the class, as Hermione was too distracted to focus. “I am going to demonstrate what I’m about to teach you. What you will see is my disappearing. I can’t do this slowly, but I can show you that it works. Does anyone want a coffee?”

Four people raised their hands. Harley smiled. That made it easy. It was one tray of coffees from Costa’s Coffees. Winking to Hermione, Harley disappeared in an almost invisible twinkle of black, inky light. It was like black vapor, but more cohesive. Three minutes later, she re-appeared with a tray of coffees and a receipt that showed she really had gone all the way to Glasgow for the coffee.

Everyone in the room was astonished and excited. To be able to come and go without control or supervision was a dream come true. 

Harley began with those who hadn’t ordered coffee, since they were less distracted. “I am going to take each one of you from here down to the Great Hall and then back up here. I want you to close your eyes and really  _ feel _ what’s happening to you. For this to work, you have to really, really  _ know _ the location you’re going to. You can only do this blind. That’s the only limitation. You’ve got to have confidence in where you’re going and you can’t do it with your eyes open. It will make you violently sick. The good news is that you can get the image you need from a picture. A magazine, a newspaper – either can give you the perspective you need to use this form of apparition.” 

There were smiles all around as everyone thought about the implications of what Harley was saying. “I’m not teaching this to the adults. This is ours – that is, this is something that I want only the kids to know. I’m going to lock the secret of how to do this in your minds. I’m not going to have you trying to teach someone else how to do this, ok? That’s the trade. Is everyone alright with that?”

There were nods all around, but no one looked that happy about it. “Hey, look. I understand. I know that you like the idea of being to show this to others, but you could screw it up and get them hurt. I am going to teach this one way and this will be the only way its taught. If you don’t like that restriction, you can leave now.”

Of the thirty students, only two left, which was fewer than Harley had guessed when she bet with Hermione. Both of the departing students were Ravenclaw and Hermione made a strong mental note to have a ‘conversation’ with them later. 

Harley looked around. “Ok. So, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to line up in two lines. I want you to pick a place where you want to go. Solidify the image in your minds. Know it. Feel it. Describe the place to yourselves. When I get to you, you’re going to describe it to me. If I feel like you know it well enough, we’ll try going there. You’ll provide the image, I’ll provide the magic.”

Hermione listened to the way that Harley was speaking. It was impossible to describe to anyone the pride that she had in her wife. Harley caught her eye and smiled. “I love you” she mouthed. Hermione’s eyes went moist with happy tears. “Love you too” she mouthed back. 

People saw the interchange, but most of them really didn’t understand what was going on. They were 13 or 14 and most of them were more interested in  _ Teen Witch Weekly  _ or in  _ Cosmo Teen _ or in how their hair and make-up was done than they were in having a relationship. However, some of them saw how the two most powerful witches in all of Europe, or maybe the world, interacted and wondered about what it meant, either for them or for what they were about to learn.

Of that smaller group, most didn’t  _ really _ understand how much of their magic was driven by their emotions and really didn’t grasp that if a person’s emotions were strong and focused, their magic would also be strong and focused. 

Once Harley began the trips back and forth to the Great Hall, the students started realizing how vastly different their power levels were from Harley and Hermione’s power levels. It was one thing to be told that a witch or wizard was more powerful. It was quite another to actually experience it. It was like touching a live wire or getting close to a raging bonfire – too close or too much was overwhelming and terrifying. 

When all of the trips were done, back and forth to the Great Hall, Harley had them line up and, one at a time, she had them close their eyes and describe where they wanted to go. With only one exception, every student was successful. Hermione made a note to pull the one unsuccessful student aside and talk to her. There was no reason that students couldn’t do what they were showing them and Hermione would be damned if she let a student, who was a friend, slide. 

When the bell rang, Harley made a bee-line to Hermione and pulled her close. “Did I do ok?”

Looking up into Harley’s eyes, Hermione whispered, “You did great, love. I’m really proud of you.”

Leaning in, the two of them kissed softly before breaking apart, giggling. “At least we don’t have to run to class!” 

Hermione summoned their bags and the two of them held hands before disappearing in a black shimmer. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

The rest of the day flew by, highlighted by their Potions class, which was directed by a 7 th year Ravenclaw by the name of Eric Murley – a tall, quiet but thoughtful student with a passion for correct ingredients preparation that bordered on OCD. 

By the time the afternoon rolled around, Harley and Hermione were tired. Flying class was from 4 to 5, but there was nothing left for them to learn, so they just grabbed their brooms – which were both Firebolts, since they had the money, and they took off into the sky. 

They were just coming back from doing a high-speed, low-level pass over the Loch when Draco found them. They landed and grabbed him for a hug, which he returned, before he turned serious. “Wanted to give you two a heads-up. Some of the 7 th years in my house are not happy with you two and there have been some ugly things said. Don’t go anywhere alone, ok? They may try to make a play to isolate you before they kill you.”

Hermione looked at him and then gave him another huge, almost bone-crushing hug. “Thank you, Draco” she whispered to him.

Although her bits were wrong, Draco liked Hermione’s hugs. They were intense and they were honest. Then he thought of his mother. “My mother’s pregnant, but she told me to tell you two that you’re both invited for Samhain dinner at the house. She’s not taking any excuses.”

“Tell her that we’ll be there, Draco” Harley said. 

“What do we wear?” Hermione asked, since she really didn’t know anything about the etiquette around the Festival of Dark and Light, which is what Samhain really was. 

“I’ll have my mother write you, ok? I’ve gotta go. Don’t want to warn anyone that I’ve told you to be careful.”

“Hey… you be careful too, ok?” Harley said to him, before she kissed his cheek. “Thank you for warning us.”

Draco was very confused by what he was feeling, but he knew it felt good. He also knew he owed them for what they had done. He had always heard his father say, “Malfoys pay their debts”, and he wondered what that meant for him. As he flew off, he thought a lot the situation. Whatever was going on, there was a problem 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Saturday, September 19** **th** ** – The Great Hall of Hogwarts - 4:30 pm**

Students were milling around the foyer of the Great Hall, waiting for dinner to be declared. Some were ‘being friendly’ in the nooks and corners, while others were sitting and reading or playing Exploding Snap. No one knew what was going on with the school’s leadership and most of them didn’t care. They were learning a great deal, though Transfiguration had gone by the wayside for the week. No one knew why, but they didn’t care either. The rest of their coursework was keeping them busy and it didn’t occur to most of them that something might be wrong. 

The black dog that wandered into the Great Hall somehow didn’t seem out of place and no one thought much of it. Much, much odder things had happened and so people went back to what they had been doing. When the dog went up the first flight of stairs, looking as if he knew where he was going, a few people watched for a moment, but no one said anything. They mostly shrugged and went about their business. 

It wasn’t until the dog became a man that anyone said anything. It was a fourth-year student. “Can I help you, sir?”

Sirius looked at the young man and said, “You can show me where Filius Flitwick has his office?”

The boy nodded and said, “This way” and started off down the hall. Two turns later, the boy said, “It’s that office right there. The one with the Raven on it.”

Sirius said, “Thank you. I appreciate it” before turning and knocking on the door. The boy wondered for a moment what it was all about, but took off to go find his friends and join them for dinner. 

When the door opened, Sirius looked in and called out, “Filius?”

“Come in” a disembodied voice called back. 

Sirius walked in and looked around. It took him a moment to find the diminutive professor amid the clutter. He didn’t say anything for a moment. The room was fascinating because of all of the magical items that were blinking, hooting, puffing smoke, flying, or shifting from shape to shape. 

“Got a moment?”

Filius looked up and studied him for a moment. “Sirius Black?”

“Yes. Lord Black now.”

“How can I help you?”

Sirius grinned. “They’ve made me the new Headmaster, Filius.”

Filius Flitwick was floored. “They’ve replaced Albus  _ and _ Minerva?”

“Albus will never see the light of day again, Filius. Between my testimony, Minerva’s testimony, and others, there is enough evidence to put Albus away for the next 100 years. Minerva herself will be lucky to escape a stay in Azkaban, given her duplicity in many of Albus’ schemes. I’ve been instructed to take the Headship and find a new deputy who can help run the school efficiently.”

“Albus must be furious. Minerva too.”

“Albus certainly is. Fawkes seems to have abandoned him and he’s aged ten years in the last two weeks.”

“What about Minerva? Why are they going after her?”

“Though Minerva was completely in the right, morally, in kidnapping my God-daughter, she had no  _ legal _ right going outside the terms of the will. The Longbottoms were first on the list to raise Harley and even Amelia was on the list of preferred guardians. Minerva could have and should have taken my goddaughter to the Goblins, who would have seen her safely to one of the families on the Potters’ will. Instead, she took her to Isabelle Ross. A great, I mean really great and really safe choice to be sure, but certainly outside the terms of the will.”

“No good deed goes unpunished? Is that what we’re facing?”

Sirius looked at the Charms master and sighed sadly. “Yea, something like that. You know I adore Minerva in so many ways, and I am incredibly grateful for what she did, both for me and for Harley, but the law is a bitch and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

He had no idea, of course, that his God-daughter had other ideas for Minerva, most all of which the Ministry would not like very much. 

“And so now what? You are the Headmaster? What about your deputy? Who are you going to ask?” Filius asked. 

“I am stealing Saul Croaker’s executive assistant,  Jane Court. She’s a wickedly smart, thoughtful, well-educated, pretty Ravenclaw with an expertise in magical maths, as well as a several years of Muggle coursework in Calculus and differential equations.”

“Can she teach?”

“Math, yes. Probably some spell-creation stuff too. She’ll be a real asset when it comes to the school’s finances and stuff. Minerva got us into the black and I want to keep us there. There’s no reason that we can’t run the school at break-even or better.”

Filius shook his head. It was sort of the worst-case scenario for Albus as well as Minerva, and he thought that it was unspeakably sad that their careers as teachers would end, not with a bang, but with a whimper. 

He wondered if he would see either one of them again in this lifetime. He was pretty sure that Albus would not do well in Azkaban. Broken, old men usually didn’t. As for Minerva… he hoped that they’d let her quietly retire somewhere, with a promise that she would not seek a teaching position again, anywhere. 

“Alright, Headmaster. Let’s take you to the office and see if Hogwarts accepts you. If she does, you can swear the Headmaster’s oath in front of me and we’ll get you situated.”

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

A half-hour later, all of the professors in the school had gathered in the Headmaster’s office to witness the oath. Most were shocked that both Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall had been replaced, but all of them understood the necessity of having a Headmaster who wasn’t conflicted by more than one hundred years of duplicitous or questionable interactions, choices, and/or scheming.

Filius stood on the desk, in order to be seen, and to command the room sufficiently. He handed Sirius the sheet with the oath written on it. Sirus made a couple of alterations, showed them to Filius and to Poppy Pomfrey, who both deemed the changes acceptable, and then prompted Sirius to take the oath.

Sirius looked around and then, with his wand in his hand said:

** “I, Sirius Orion Black, of the House of Black, take the following oath, free of conflict, and by my own free will. I swear to uphold, defend, and cherish the Charter of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I swear on my magic and on my life, to protect and defend the children in my charge, against all black magic. I swear that I will teach all who come to me with open hearts, who seek instruction in the ways of Magic, without bias or favor. I swear that I will lead the school in the ways of the light, promoting all that is kind, good, patient, and generous, and helping all those who need it, without regard to birth or heritage. Finally, I swear never to practice black magic and always keep my magic light and pure, so that I can be an example to all those who follow me in this office. So I swear, so help me God.”**

The professors in the room watched the oath settle on Sirus, before he held up his hand and said, LUMOS! Delighting all with the powerful ball of light that appeared in his palm. 

“My fellow teachers, my friends. I know most of you, but not all of you. I will do the best I can to make sure that we all have a chance to speak together and to grow in trust and in friendship. In the meantime, I expect you to put your efforts into teaching your students, as you never have before. I want this next year to be an example to our competitors, to show them just why Hogwarts is considered the best school in Europe.”

“Are you going to replace Minerva in Transfiguration?”

“I will cover that course until I can find someone. There are lots of qualified Transfiguration professors out there, we just have to find the right one.”

“What about Defense Against the Dark Arts?”

Sirius grinned. “I hear that my god-daughter is doing a bang-up job with the first-through-third year students, but I take your point. I have Remus Lupin coming to take the job. He will teach the balance of the year, before I swap him out with Alastor Moody for the Spring term. They’ll alternate back and forth until we can break the curse on the position.”

That solution seemed to satisfy the professors who were present. No one really wanted to see Sybil Trelawney replaced, so no one asked about her. The History of Magic professor was working out well, so he was, for lack of a better term, ignored. 

“It’s time for dinner, so let us go down together. I hear that the elves have really stepped up their game and the food is wonderful.”

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

As was usual for the older Gryffindors, they wandered in, in groups of twos and threes and took their places. The first, second, and third-year students came in as a group, two by two, with Athames at their sides and their individual house-affiliations showing. Harley and Hermione led the group, Hermione’s arm on Harley’s, showing that they were a bonded couple. The each in the group stood by his or her seat, and waited for the signal from Hermione to sit down. Sirius watched the show of power and influence and understood what Albus has seen: His god-daughter and her wife were building their nest in Hogwarts and creating their own army, outside of any adults’ control. 

It also wasn’t lost on Sirius that the chairs that Harley and Hermione occupied were the same size and shape as the Headmaster’s. It wasn’t lost on anyone else either, but that was the point of the exercise. 

What surprised everyone was when Draco Malfoy entered, with Daphne Greengrass at his side, leading the first-through-third year Slytherins. All of their counterparts in Gryffindor stood in silent respect and watched the processional. Draco was fighting a smile the whole time, which both Hermione and Harley saw. Gryffindor house sat when Draco and Daphne sat, making the whole thing look like a very choreographed show. It was obvious, afterwards, as Hufflepuff House and Ravenclaw came in, that they were lacking in leadership. 

Draco saw it and squeezed Daphne’s hand in silent appreciation for her hard work in getting things together so that they could make their entrance as a house. Draco wasn’t alone though. Sirius Black watched from the Head Table and realized what was going on. Once everyone was seated, Sirius rose to speak.

“Good evening, all. I am Sirius Orion Black and I am your new Headmaster.” He paused as the spontaneous applause from all of the houses filled the Hall. When it died down, he continued, “Albus Dumbledore has been arrested, on multiple charges, as has Minerva McGonagall. I have been asked to step up and lead this school for at least the next three to five years, so that all of you get a fair, clean shot at either your OWL’s or your NEWT’s or both. We will be adding the Muggle A.S. as well as the A2 level exams so that you can go on and attend Muggle universities, if that is your path. Additionally, we will be doing career-counselling and helping you to find a Master or Mistress to serve while you study for your Mastery tests.”

Harley looked at Hermione. They didn’t need to exchange words. Hermione knew what Harley was thinking, because she was thinking the same thing. Minerva was going to be released,  _ or else. _

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

The note arrived just as soon as Hermione and Harley got back to their dorm-room. It had obviously been delivered via house-elf mail. 

_ **Can you please come to my office? We need to talk.** _

_ **Padfoot.** _

Harley looked at Hermione and shrugged. “Yes? No?”

“He’s your godfather. It’s not like he’s going to hurt you or something. He probably wants to talk about why he didn’t tell you this was coming. I know I would, in his situation.”

“That’s what I figured, but you’re my wife, so I wanted to ask..”

“I love you too, Harley. You know that where you go, I go.”

Harley took Hermione’s hand and pulled her close, so that she could kiss her. Hermione flowed into her arms and the two kissed, hungrily. “My bed?”

Hermione looked at her, obviously hungry for more than food. “Yes, please.”

Harley’s eyes were bright with both hope and trepidation. “Tonight?”

Hermione kissed her again and said, “Yes, please.”

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Sirius Black was still adjusting to the weight of the wards on his magic. It was not a small burden. He could feel all the sparks of life, all over the castle. It was odd that they all felt the same; vibrant, hopeful, strong, and yet unique. It was something that he would never have expected. 

One of the gifts of being a Grim was Mage Sight. He could see the magic all around someone. Some glowed brightly and others, not so much. Albus had glowed to the point of not being able to look at him. Minerva was bright, but not like Albus. Isabelle… was very, very bright and Harley – he couldn’t look at her. She was like looking at a raging, blue-white giant star: impossibly powerful and so bright as to make all others look dim. Hermione too. She light was torrent, viciously bright, with cascading magic flowing off her all the time. The two were well matched. It was curious thing, Sirius thought, that the house-elves glowed just as powerfully as most of the students in the school. Their ‘magical color’ was a different shade than the human students, but their magic was just as real and just as intense. 

He was just turning to look out the huge window to the left of his desk; the one that overlooked most of the castle, when two people silently shimmered into existence. It didn’t take much of a leap of logic to realize that it was Harley and Hermione. They were both wearing white polo shirts and black, knee-length school skirts, and 2” black pump heels. Together, they were stunningly beautiful. 

“Sirius!” Harley yelled happily and threw herself into his arms. 

“Hiya, squirt. Love you.”

Hermione hugged him next. “Lord Black”

“Sirius to you, my girl. Or ‘Padfoot” - Your choice.”

“Uncle Padfoot?”

Sirius smiled. “That’ll do.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Harley weighed in.

“Because the final decision was made not even two days ago. Once Amelia realized that Albus was not going to see the light of day again and that Minerva was going to be held over for further questioning, she realized that their magical contracts with Hogwarts were going to kick in. It was at that point that she went to Fudge. Fudge hemmed and hawed, but what really put it over the top, if you can believe this, was Lucius Malfoy! He agreed that the school needed ‘a steady hand, who could bear the wards and would do right be the students.”

Hermione looked at Harley and nodded. Sirius didn’t know what it was about, but figured that his god-daughter was up to something and that it had something to do with Lucius Malfoy. 

“So you’re headmaster now? Who is going to be your deputy?”

Sirius told them about Jane Court and why he was stealing her away from Croaker. He didn’t tell them that one of the reasons was that that he had been six years behind Croaker and really, really didn’t like him and this was a way of sticking a knife in and getting away with it that gave Croaker no immediate recourse. 

“When do we get to meet her?”

Sirius smiled. “She’ll be here tomorrow, to meet everyone, to take the oath, and get settled in.”

“What about you and my mom?” Harley asked, more than a little serious.

Sirius stopped and looked at her. There was a look in his eyes that said something about how he felt, but Harley wasn’t willing to go with that alone, so she pushed it a little bit. “I’ve seen you looking at her, Sirius, and I’m not stupid. I’ve also seen how she looks at you. You both want it, so why aren’t you doing something about it?”

“It’s…. complicated. It’s not just me, but it’s the House of Black too and what I have to do in order to continue being Lord Black.”

“What? Are you going to tell me that you’re sterile because of Azkaban and you have to have children or at least an heir in order to continue being the Lord Black?”

Sirius sighed and looked at her. “You know, there are times, like this, when I wish you weren’t so fucking smart and inciteful.”

Harley giggled. “Not my fault. Hermione’s the smart one who worked it out. She went and looked up the Black Family and everything.”

Hermione giggled and then curtsied in the most ostentatiously snarky way she could think of. Seeing it, Harley burst out laughing at Sirius’ expense, which made him start to sputter. 

Harley looked at her god-father and grinned. “Love you, Padfoot. Talk to you later.”

She took Hermione’s hand and the two of them shimmered into blackness and disappeared. Sirius thought that it was really interesting that he could still feel them in the castle, but that the wards didn’t even bother to acknowledge their passage. It was as if they weren’t really there for a moment.  _ Can the wards be adjusted to block that?  _ He wondered.  _ Did Albus even understand the wards well enough to modify them? Or are they too old to tinker with?  _ Sirius didn’t know, but he suspected that Filius might have a few things to say about the wards, their permeability, and the comings-and-goings of two young girls. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

Forty minutes later, a white owl went out of the castle, heading across and then down the island. It would take her a mere four minutes to get where she was headed, since she was a particularly  _ magical _ owl and could do things that no other owl could do. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

**Loc Molson, Quebec, just off 325e Ave., on the eastern shore of Lac Molson – Sunday, Sept. 20th**

Isabelle Ross was not usually one to sleep in. She had always been a morning person and it was a hard habit to shake, but some mornings just seemed to demand an extra hour (or two) in bed. Especially when one was feeling randy. 

She didn’t know what to make of her feelings. They were strong: stronger than they had been for anyone else that she could remember. Maybe it was the kiss that they had exchanged? Or the feeling of Sirius’ hand on her ass? Or maybe it was that god-damned sex toy that Miranda had given her that was now lodged in her pussy, pulsing and vibrating, and making such a fuss.

No matter the source, Isabelle was feeling more sexually needy that she had ever felt in her life. All she could think about was Sirius’ chiseled features, his gray eyes, ready laugh, and his lean, strong body. For all of the time that he had spent in that accursed place, he still moved with a fluid grace that made her want him. 

Reaching down, Isabelle shoved the toy deep into her pussy, pumping it repeatedly. It was thick and hot and its vibrations hit so many of the good spots inside her. Her white G-string, cotton panties were a soaking mess since, apparently, she had woken up to a wonderful series of orgasms. 

_ Now, if someone could please invent a magical cock and fuck me in the ass, this would be perfect _ she thought as she neared another powerful orgasm, this time from her own hands. 

It took another minute or so for her to crash over the edge and fall asleep, with the toy still deep in her hot, wet sex. Any thought of regret or frustration were absent, since she had come to realize what (and who) she needed. 

**<><><><><><><><><><><><>**

An hour later, Isabelle finally crawled out of bed. Her pussy was a hot mess and she knew that the first order of business was a shower… and then coffee, since coffee is the fluid of life. 

The shower felt really good and it woke her up like nothing else (except coffee) could. Plodding out to her bedroom, Isabelle saw the Great Gray Owl sitting on the designated, magically warmed, secure perch that she had built for message-owls on the porch. She walked over, opened the door, and invited the owl into the house. She called out, because she knew that the owls understood her, “There are owl-treats in the dish and fresh water for you. Hoot if you want bacon.”

Surprisingly, the owl didn’t hoot, as most did (owls are bacon lovers and the number one reason for the high demand in magical Europe). After dressing, Isabelle walked into the living-room and over to the owl. She looked at him? Her? And said, “So, good morning. What have you got for me?”

The owl lifted his leg cooperatively and Isabelle removed the package. “Thank you. Anything else you want? Bacon? A mouse? Vole?” The Great-Gray owl seemed to take offense that he/she couldn’t catch his/her own and Isabelle saw it. “I’m sorry. Just trying to be hospitable. There’s a field north of here that might be good for mice. Don’t know about voles. Are we all done?”

The owl hooted softly once and flew out the door. Isabelle magicked it close. With letter in hand, she went off to the kitchen for her coffee. She wasn’t going to read a personal letter without her coffee. 

Sitting down at one of the bar-stools, Isabelle pulled her coffee close, took a long pull on it, and then sat it down, so that she could open the letter.

It had been written on muggle paper, which surprised her, and the scrawl was irregular, which also surprised her, since wizards and witches usually used quills – which almost by necessity made him/her have neat handwriting. 

She unscrolled the paper and did her best to lay it flat so that she could read it. 

The paper struggled to cooperate with her magic, but she could take it only so far, so she had to hold it down with both hands. 

**19 September 1992**

**Dearest Isabelle:**

** I am ashamed that it has taken me this long to write to you, but things are happening here that I didn’t expect and I lost track of time. I know that I promised you letters, and frankly, after kissing you, I was at a loss to know what to say. I’ve never felt my magic respond to anyone like it did with you and that scared me – but in a good way. I want you. **

**They’ve made me Headmaster of Hogwarts. Does that surprise you? It surprised the hell out of me. Albus has been sent to Azkaban for numerous crimes, not all of which I can even fathom. Minerva has been held over for questioning and possible charges, including kidnapping, conspiracy to commit kidnapping, use of magic on a Muggle, lying to investigators by way of the Fidelius Charm, and a bunch of others. I frankly don’t’ see how she won’t go to jail, unless Harley does something, and I’m thinking that she might, but she won’t discuss it. I know that I wouldn’t want to be Amelia Bones or Cornelius Fudge right now. **

**Isabelle, I know this is unexpected, but… would you come to Hogwarts? At least for a little while? I really want to see you and to know if you feel the same about me as I do about you. My life would be so much better with you in it, I think, and if you feel the same, then we’re fools not to try.**

**Always,**

**Sirius**

Isabelle read the note, read it again, and then burst into happy tears. It was exactly what she wanted. She had never wanted anything like she wanted to be with Sirius. She hadn’t dared tell Harley that she felt her magic connect to Sirius, in case the two of them didn’t get on, but now? She knew that they did, and she could freely admit that she and Sirius did, and all was right with the world. She was going to Hogwarts, to be with Sirius, and though she didn’t know what came after that… for the moment, all was right with the world.

**END – Book one of ** **Born to a New Dawn** **. **


End file.
